Boys with Girlfriends
by audreyii-fic
Summary: A boy gets dumped by a vampire and a wolfgirl tries to cheer him up. A genderswap rewrite of New Moon and Eclipse.
1. New Moon: The Garage

**A/N Intro**: Okay. So. This happened thanks to the TATS September Drabble Challenge. That (plus resultant Twitter discussions) led me to the realization that there was still an aspect of Twilight I had yet to examine in fic: Gender Issues.

My goal in this is not beautiful prose, or arguments for canon-compliance (because a white boy raised by Renee and a native girl raised by Billy simply have too many variables for _any _interpretation to be the final word in how they turned out), or to come up with "fixes" for the source material. My goal is to examine several critical J/B scenes and see how personal preconceptions about gender in society a) changes the way I write a scene and/or influences my character choices, and b) changes the way I feel about the behavior of the characters, even if they're largely doing the same thing they did in canon. I'm hoping other people do the same (that is, think about how Bella being a boy and Jacob and Edward being girls influences what they think about the actions and thought process of all three). I think really, really awesome discussions could result.

That being said, it's also just a fic, which can be enjoyed as such without turning it into a joyless freshman seminar. (Which I do with basically everything.) Hopefully it'll be a fun read on that front, too :)

Thanks to **Mera Naam Joker**, **grrlinterrupted**, and **FatedFeathers** for cheerleading as I flailed through the first draft. Thanks again to FatedFeathers for the pretty banner (Logan Lerman and Keisha Castle-Hughes, for anyone who's wondering). Thanks to the husband, who acted as the Teenage Boy Consultant ("Yeah, like that, but with more bitterness and masturbation").

Title of the fic is taken from Meiko's song of the same name. Names of characters are chosen from history (Mary is the most popular girl's name of the decade in which Edward was born), family (Ruth is a traditional Hebrew name, like Jacob, Rachel, Rebecca, and Sarah), and guesses of character (Lucas is a popular soap opera name, and I maintain that Renee chose Isabella from daytime television).

Nine scenes taken roughly from the series/movies (this is _heavily_ movie!verse) plus two non-canon extras. Probably 30k-ish words. Weekly updates.

Everything covered? Excellent.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Boys with Girlfriends<em>**

* * *

><p><em>in my dream i was almost there  then you pulled me aside and said you're going nowhere  
>Arcade Fire, "Modern Man"<em>

* * *

><p>He hears the radio before he even gets out of the truck. The music rattles in a cheap-speaker-on-max kind of way, but the voice accompanying it is real. "And my heart hit a problem in the early hours, so I stopped it dead for a beat or two..."<p>

It's also scary off-key.

He crosses the yard and nudges open the door to the garage. Inside, a teenage girl is waxing the roof of a car with one hand and singing - with great enthusiasm - into a wrench with the other. "So I sent it to a place in the middle of nowhere with a big black horse and a cherry tree!"

The girl rubs at an imaginary spot on the paint, then, apparently satisfied, tosses the dirty rag over her shoulder. It lands in the seat of a rusty fold-up lawn chair. She grooves across the concrete, hopping on one foot, and starts throwing tools into a cardboard box... in time to the music.

"And I said nooooooooo, no, nooooo no-no-no, I said noooooooo, no, you're not the one for me..."

Her dancing is worse than her singing, and he finds himself starting to smile - at least, he thinks so, 'cause it's been awhile and he's not sure he remembers exactly what it's like.

She executes a twirl on the tip of her combat boot. Their eyes meet.

"Hi, Ruth," Lucas says.

Ruth drops the wrench to the ground with a clang. "Lucas," she squeaks, eyes wide. "Um. Hi. I- I was just... uh..." She scrambles to the radio, nearly falling over a bench as she does, and smacks her hand against the plastic casing until the music stops.

He feels bad for having embarrassed her, but not bad enough to be sorry he watched. "I like that song," he offers, opening the door the rest of the way.

"You do?"

No. "Yes."

He can still feel the smile on his face, that's weird.

"Oh. Cool." Ruth pulls her ponytail out from the collar of her sweatshirt. "So," she says casually, "what's up?"

Lucas jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "I've got a couple of bikes in my flatbed," he tells her, "and a proposition for you."

Ruth flashes a sunny grin and says, "I _love _propositions."

* * *

><p>Lucas had told his mom that he wanted to spend more time with his dad, y'know, now that he was growing up. He said he wanted a change of scenery. And these things were kind of true.<p>

Mostly, though, he wanted to get away from Phil.

Renee, without fail, always attracted the Alpha Asshole of any given area. The first time Lucas had taken the bus by himself was when he was seven, to pick up chocolate ice cream from the store so that his mom would quit one of her crying jags over whichever douche had dumped her that time. It wasn't the one who had stolen their DVD player, he'd been a few years earlier, but it was before the one with the tattoo on his neck of a naked chick wrestling a squid.

By comparison Phil was decent. Lucas couldn't figure out why the fuck they'd decided to get _married_, which was stupid and pointless, but he couldn't deny that Phil hadn't stolen shit yet and didn't appear to have any major communicable diseases. There was, however a severe problem: Phil had gotten it into his head that the best way to bond with his stepson was to be _friends_. He wanted to _hang out_. And why not? Lucas was seventeen and Phil was twenty-five. There was no particular reason they shouldn't get along, aside from the fact that Lucas found the whole thing monumentally creepy.

The third time Phil and Lucas had been mistaken for brothers while at Dick's Sporting Goods Lucas finally called his dad and asked if he could come live in Forks. After two minutes of stunned silence, Charlie had said _Sure, son, as long as it's okay with your mother._

Renee had _sobbed_, which was usually what made Lucas cave. She had a way of being like that, of being all _Oh baby you should do what you want don't worry about me_ that left Lucas half dead of guilt and immediately taking back whatever it was that he'd been trying to say. But for once in his life he stood firm. He was leaving, and his mom would be all right without him, Phil could find her car keys and remember to pay the gas bill and bring her chocolate ice cream all that other stuff. If Lucas didn't get the hell out of there he was going to wreck his hearing turning up his iPod to full blast to block out the sound of bed springs creaking in the next room. _Anywhere _would be better than Phoenix. Even Forks.

He'd reevaluated that assessment when he walked from baggage claim to the cruiser and his t-shirt soaked through with rain. Lucas hadn't been to Forks in years. He'd forgotten that it was cold, and wet, and cold, and cloudy, and cold, and had a population of three thousand probably inbred hicks for whom the local Wal-Mart was the rockin' Saturday hangout, and _cold_.

After three days of icy drizzle Lucas was starting to think that Phil hadn't really been so bad. Maybe he could just get more powerful headphones.

Then he had his first day at Forks High.

And he met Mary Cullen.

* * *

><p>"Wow," Ruth says as she climbs in the back of the truck. "These are messed up like <em>whoa<em>."

Lucas' heart sinks. What's left of it these days, anyhow. "So you can't fix them?"

"I didn't say _that_." In seconds Ruth is elbow deep in the first engine, feeling around and making _tsking _noises against her front teeth. "Where did you pick 'em up, anyhow?"

"Some guy's front yard."

"And you decided you had to have them?"

"Pretty much."

"I get that," she says, like it's not weird at all to randomly purchase broken vehicles you pass on the road. "I didn't know you liked bikes, though."

Lucas shrugs. "It's a new interest," he says, and feels familiar bitterness curling through his chest. "I'm branching out."

He's branching out into _anything _Mary would have hated.

"If you can fix them," he continues, "you can have one. Whichever turns out better, I don't care. I'd actually rather have the one that's more likely to shake apart."

"Nothing I fix _shakes apart,_" Ruth says indignantly.

"You know what I mean."

"Mm-hmm." When she pushes stray hairs out of her face she leaves smears of oil on her forehead. Lucas notices that her awkwardness from earlier disappeared the moment her hands touched metal. "Need riding lessons, too?"

"Of course I don't," he lies. "I know how to ride a motorcycle."

Ruth gives him a Look. "These are dirt bikes, not proper motorcycles, and if you don't know the difference then no, you _don't_know how to ride them."

He scowls to hide his blush. Stupid pale skin. "Okay, fine, I don't know anything about this stuff." It's true; whenever he tries to repair something it either breaks worse or blows up. In eighth grade there were so many snickers from the other guys in shop class that he'd rearranged his schedule and taken band instead. He wasn't any better at the trombone but at least no one had laughed.

"That's okay," Ruth says brightly, "the riding lessons are free. I can't have anyone getting squished like a bug on something I made." She jumps up and rubs her hands on her cargo pants. "Now let's get these suckers in the garage and see what's what, yeah?"

"All right."

"And don't worry. They're gonna be _super_-cool by the time I'm done."

Lucas watches as she starts wrestling the first bike out of the flatbed, and smiles again, 'cause it's kind of hard to be quite so down around someone quite so cheerful.

* * *

><p>Mary. Was. <em>Gorgeous<em>. The kind of gorgeous that didn't even make _sense_, like some combination of a runway model and a movie star and a pin-up girl, all rolled into a perfect red-haired package then covered with the most amazing perfume Lucas had ever smelled, and he didn't even _like _perfume.

In other words, Mary was one-hundred percent out of his league. Which was probably why she had seemed to detest him on sight; in his experience, gorgeous girls usually _did _detest strange guys who drooled over them. Not that he drooled. Not literally, anyhow. Probably. It was hard to tell when he couldn't do anything but stare at how absolutely flawless her skin was, and her smile, and her figure...

...okay, yeah, maybe he drooled.

Anyway, all that staring had obviously been offensive enough to make her flee school for an entire week, which was a new level of depressing loserdom for Lucas. But then she came back and wanted to be friends, which was weird, then she rescued him from getting crushed by a van and mugged in Port Angeles, which was _extremely _weird, then it turned out she was a vampire, which was so far into the realm of weird that Lucas no longer remembered what _normal _looked like.

And she loved him, which was the weirdest thing of all. A literal _goddess_ like Mary Cullen was in love with _him _for some unfathomable reason that Lucas couldn't begin to figure out but, Jesus, he was _not _going to question or complain. It didn't even matter that he couldn't do anything more than give her a couple of kisses on her cold lips. He just spent a lot of time jerking off in the shower instead, which he figured he'd have to do with _any_ girlfriend who held Very Strong Victorian Beliefs, so he couldn't really fault the vampire thing on that one. Not that he would have pushed her anyway. He'd watched how douchebag guys operated since he was a toddler and if there was one thing Lucas was sure of, it was that he was _not_going to be one of them, goddamn it. He'd make Mary happy.

_You are my life now, _she had said.

And so Lucas Swan devoted everything he had to her, and kept nothing for himself.

* * *

><p>Lucas tries not to be embarrassed that Ruth seems to do more of the heavy lifting than he does as they move the bikes into the garage. Being weaker than Mary had been one thing, given the supernatural stuff; he'd gotten over that. Being weaker than a sixteen year old girl with baby fat still in her cheeks is something else entirely. He's <em>got <em>to start lifting weights.

"Alright-y." Ruth circles the bikes several times, drumming her wrench against her palm. Lucas almost turns the radio on, just to see if she'll start dancing again. Probably not. "I can fix 'em. It'll take some parts, though, and that's not cheap."

"Not a problem," says Lucas. "I've got some money." He'd been saving it for college, but whatever. He's not doing a lot of planning ahead these days.

"And time," Ruth warns. "I'm good, but I'm not a miracle worker. Yet. It's a pretty big job, not gonna lie."

Lucas sits down on the lawn chair and looks at the bikes pensively. "What if I help?" he says. Probably he can't make things _too_much worse if he's just handing her tools and stuff like that. "Would that make it go faster?"

She blinks. "You want to help?"

"Yeah. I'll just come over after school, and we can work on it for a couple of hours each evening."

Ruth drops her wrench again.

"Or not," Lucas says hastily. He's not an idiot and knows he's really bad company these days. Plus there's, y'know, the whole blowing-things-up problem. "Whatever works."

Ruth's on her hands and knees, reaching under her car, which is where the wrench wound up. "No, no, that's great," she says, and her voice is a little higher pitched than before. "Uh, come over, sure, just as often as you want, that'd, um, that'd be- oh _shit _come _here _you fuckin' thing-"

Lucas gets down and reaches under the car too, using the awesome magic skill of having longer arms to grab the escaped tool. He hands it to Ruth. "Here."

"Um. Thanks." Ruth clutches the wrench to her sweatshirt.

"No problem." Hey, at least he can do _one _thing right in a garage.

* * *

><p>Mary didn't take it well when Lucas nearly got killed by the crazy tracker vampire. He understood that. He didn't take it well that <em>she'd <em>nearly gotten killed by aforementioned crazy tracker vampire. But Mary became obsessed with his "fragility" after that, and seemed to look at him at least once every half hour with a haunted expression, like he was about to drop dead on the spot. _I wouldn't be able to take it, _she would say._ If something happened. My existence is meaningless without you, love._

That kind of talk absolutely scared the shit out of him.

Lucas pointed out multiple times what the obvious solution was. If she changed him, made _him _into a vampire too, then, hey, problem solved. Everything would work; there'd be no reason for her to drive herself crazy, and she wouldn't have to be so miserable all the time, and they could, uh, finally _be together_ without danger of anyone getting maimed, and, and, and...

And the fact of the matter was, he _would_ die one day. It was kind of part and parcel of being human. And if he died Mary would kill herself, which would be one hundred percent his fault, and he had no idea if there was an afterlife but he was sure the guilt of what he'd caused would follow him through eternity either way.

But Mary wouldn't budge, no matter how strenuously he argued. _You're just perfect the way you are, _she would say, and then she would kiss him, and he'd drop it, because that was the way things were with them.

Until his second brush with death, when he'd been stupid enough to give himself a paper cut in front of Mary's family. Lucas had actually thought that _that _would convince her to see reason. If he changed then her brother wouldn't lose his shit over a couple drops of blood, and there would be nothing to worry about anymore, and she would be _happy_.

Instead she took him out into the woods and dumped him.

_Don't do this_, he'd begged. _This is such a stupid thing to break up over. It's an easy fix. I'll be fine, and then you'll be fine, and then we'll be together-_

_I don't want to be together. _Mary had stared at a point over his shoulder, and she had really never been as beautiful as she'd been in that moment.

_But-_

_I should never have let this go on so long. I don't want you to be a vampire. I don't want you to change. I don't want **you**. And that's it. Goodbye, Lucas._

She was gone before he could catch his breath.

* * *

><p>Ruth is a talker, but not in a bad way. The chatter of the girls at school drives Lucas nuts, even more so <em>now, <em>because he always compares them to how Mary had sounded - amazing - and it puts him in an even worse mood.

In fact, he spends most of his time these days comparing every girl he sees to Mary, and they all come up short. Every single one. By a mile.

But Ruth's different. Lucas is sure that if he tried comparing her voice he'd find _her _inferior, too... but he's not sure he _can_ compare them. She's disassembling the engines onto a blanket and either praising or cursing each piece of metal, and she's so unlike Mary that it's apples and oranges.

Besides, Mary _never _cursed.

"You, now, _you're _okay," Ruth says to some pipe thing that Lucas couldn't name if his life depended on it. "You get to go in the good pile. You're all right by me."

"Why are you talking to them?" he asks, curious in spite of himself.

She gives him an Isn't It Obvious look. "Because otherwise they get low self-esteem," she says, "and then they break. It's all about positive reinforcement with the thingies."

"Thingies?"

Ruth points at the scraps of whatever on the blankets. "Thingies," she explains. "It's a technical term."

"What happens to the bad thingies?"

"See that hammer?" Lucas glances at the epic-sized mallet hanging on the wall. "The bad thingies get smashed. As a warning to the others."

"Jesus! _That's_your idea of positive reinforcement?"

"Well, you need a carrot _and_a stick." She's focused on prying out some rusted piece of wire from the gears. "Gotta keep a balance. Otherwise things get out of hand around here."

Lucas gapes at the girl with the ragged fingernails. "You're kind of twisted, anyone ever tell you that?"

"It's come up," she says. Then she pauses for a half second. "Is that a real bad thing?"

"No, it's not bad, it's just..." Lucas has listened to the conversations with the thingies for the last half hour and weirdly enough he _really _doesn't want to see any of them get smashed. "Do me a favor and don't kill them, okay?"

Ruth ducks her head and scratches the back of her neck with a screwdriver. "If it means that much to you."

It actually does.

* * *

><p>The following months <em>fucking sucked<em>.

There were times that Lucas thought he actually might be going crazy. He'd get in the truck intending to go to the store for milk, and then he'd look up and realize he had just driven past Port Angeles. He snapped at everyone and got into furious shouting matches with the neighbor over the leaves from her maple landing in their driveway. He was having an absolutely ridiculous amount of wet dreams, since apparently his body had decided to taunt him about what he'd never had and now never would.

Mostly, though, Lucas sat around the house and stared at the wall and went over that last conversation with Mary again and again and again, trying to figure out what he could have said or done that would have changed her mind. There had to have been _something_. In some half-assed way he thought that if he could figure it out, then he could go find her and convince her to take him back.

Around January Charlie sat down and gave him a talk, man-to-man. _Listen, son, I know it's hard. Lord knows I know it's hard._ He'd clapped Lucas on the shoulder. _But there's lots of fish in the sea. You just have to get back out there._

Something hard settled inside. _Yeah, Dad, _Lucas said sarcastically, _how'd that work out for __**you**__?_

Charlie had dropped his hand.

That was the day Lucas decided it hurt a whole lot less to _hate _Mary than it did to miss her. He started doing all kinds of things he knew would have made her upset, reckless things, stupid things. Like buying broken down motorbikes that stood a very good change of flattening him into a tree. That would _really _have pissed her off. Well, fuck her.

She didn't want him anyway.

* * *

><p>It's dark outside by the time they've finished cleaning the garage. "So, uh, you're coming back tomorrow, then?" says Ruth.<p>

"Yeah," Lucas says. He _really _wants to finish those bikes ASAP. "If it's not a problem."

"Nuh-uh. Not a problem. Nope."

He's almost out of the driveway before Ruth comes pelting after him. She looks like a puppy tripping over too-big feet in those combat boots. Lucas rolls down the window in surprise, and she shoves a shoebox at him. "Here," she says. "See you tomorrow." And she turns and runs away again just as fast as she came.

He opens the shoebox. It's filled with the bad thingies, padded by scrunched paper towels.

Huh.

On the drive home, Lucas reflects that this is probably the least miserable day he's had in a long time.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next<strong>: The Bike Crash_


	2. New Moon: The Bike Crash

_**A/N**: Oh, what the fuck, let's make it bi-weekly._

* * *

><p><em>i know the world's been mean to you  i've got a cure, hold tight  
>Tegan and Sara, "The Cure"<em>

* * *

><p>"You look scared."<p>

"Do not."

"Mm-hmm." Ruth manages not to laugh as Lucas tries to get onto the dirt bike and catches the edge of his jeans on the kick stop. It would hurt his feelings. It's hard, though, 'cause he looks fuckin' ridiculous; he's _really _not made for this kind of thing, but he wants to learn, so that's that. Ruth's gonna teach him.

She'll teach him anything he wants to know.

"Okay," she says, pointing at the handlebars. "See those?"

"Yeah?"

"Those are the handlebars. They're bars, and they're where you put your hands. That's why they're called handlebars."

Lucas gives her an incredibly dirty look. "Thanks," he says sarcastically.

Ruth grins. "I'm here to help."

* * *

><p>Ruth Black owned exactly fifteen sweatshirts, ten pairs of cargo pants, eight pairs of thermal socks, and one bra. And the underwire was sticking out of the bra.<p>

Her sisters always gave her shit about it. When the three of them were little, they used to watch _Grease_ at least three times a week. Rachel and Rebecca developed a deep and personal love for showtunes; Ruth developed a deep and personal love for 1948 Ford De Luxe Specials. Then Mrs. Clearwater had loaned her _Thelma and Louise_, which fuckin' _proved_ girls could own awesome wheels. Louise had a 1966 Thunderbird.

So at age eight Ruth decided she was going to build the coolest car in the history of the world. And who needed dresses and makeup and shit when you were covered in engine grime?

Mom used to smile and say that she would grow out of it one day. But, well... Mom didn't know everything. And every time Rachel and Rebecca had tried to push their big nosy butts in and say just 'cause Mom was gone didn't mean _they_ couldn't teach Ruth the girl stuff, Ruth told them they were more than welcome to go cliff-diving on a stormy day, thanks.

Rachel and Rebecca retorted with warnings that she'd _never _get a boyfriend with that kind of attitude.

Whatever. Ruth had really never given a shit about guys. The closest thing she had to a celebrity crush was Jeremy Clarkson, and that was only because he was violently against speed cameras. As far as the locals went, her choices were limited to the guys she'd known since she was in diapers. Ruth could remember when Embry Call used to shove straws up his nose to do a walrus impression. Quil was her third cousin. Paul was an asshole. Jared was dumb as a post. Seth was an infant. She got along with 'em all okay - yeah, even Paul, most of the time anyhow - but they didn't exactly give her the squidgies. Ick.

Then she turned fifteen. And Lucas Swan turned up at First Beach.

She managed, somehow, by the grace of divine intervention or something, not to make a complete idiot out of herself. She must not've done anything _too _wrong since he'd come over to talk. Those Forks girls were there, older and prettier and with some serious boobs, but Lucas wanted to hike the beach with _her_. Ruth told him all those old dumb stories about the wolves and stuff, and he'd paid attention to what she'd had to say like it was super-interesting, and he had this smile and this hair and these brown eyes and just _whoa_.

And he was driving _her truck._

Ruth was in love.

That was the point at which she started to notice stuff like the underwire sticking out of her bra. And the fact that she didn't own a skirt.

A couple of times she thought maybe she'd ask Billy for a couple of bucks to go to the second-hand store in Port Angeles and buy some of those shoes with the wedges on them, but if she did then he'd ask _why _and it was vitally important that no one _ever ever __**ever**_ find out that she had a crush on Lucas Swan. There was no such thing as a secret in La Push, and everyone would know, and not only would Embry and Quil give her shit _forever _but Lucas himself might hear about it and then she'd just crawl under the Rabbit and kick out the fuckin' jack because she'd never be able to look anyone in the face for the rest of her life.

So, since she couldn't go to get new stuff, Ruth started sneaking into the twins' old room and going through their closets. They'd left blouses and stockings and halter top things that Ruth didn't even know how to put on. She tried them out but they felt weird, and she practiced with the makeup but couldn't tell if she had it right. She was really careful to wash every last speck off before anyone saw.

Girl stuff was _hard_.

* * *

><p>"All-righty," Ruth says. She backs up. "Tell me again."<p>

Lucas rolls his eyes, but he obediently points to and lists all the vital bits of the motorbike. Ruth listens, really she does, but she also notices how his hands move when he gestures to things. She's thought a lot about what those hands would feel like in various places. Sometimes she gets distracted. Then she drops things and generally morphs into a pathetic dork.

It's not her fault, though. It's _not_. Lucas is just... he shouldn't have such nice hands. That shit's just not _fair_.

Once upon a time Ruth tried to stop swearing quite so much. But it makes Lucas smile when she does, and making Lucas smile is _way _the fuck high on her priority list. Now she swears more than ever.

"Uh, Ruth?"

Ruth blinks. "Yeah?"

Lucas raises an eyebrow. "Did I get it right?"

Probably. "Definitely." Ruth rubs her palms together, then moves to stand in front of the bike, pretty sure that since Lucas isn't touching the gas he won't run her over by accident - but only pretty sure because _damn _is he bad with mechanical shit. It's cute. "Now put your hands on the handlebars, remember, we talked about what those are-"

He scowls.

"-and just put your thumb _there_." She moves his fingers to the right places. "Then here, hold onto the clutch like _this_, and, yeah, good, you got it." Ruth glances up, and Lucas glances up too, and he just kind of _looks _at her.

If she leaned forward about five inches she could kiss him. She could brush his hair out of the way which she knows is really soft 'cause she's ruffled it a couple of times, and she'd kiss him, and he'd smile.

He'd smile because he likes her. She's pretty damn sure he likes her.

She just has to be patient.

Lucas straightens up on the bike with a cough, and Ruth _loves _his super-pale skin 'cause it always gives him away, and the only thing she likes more than making him smile is making him blush. Which he's doing now. "Okay," he says. "So. I think I'm ready."

Ruth feels like cheering, even though that's not what he means. "Sweet. Let's get this show on the road, then."

* * *

><p>Lucas got a girlfriend, and that was the first time Ruth ever broke a bolt by over-tightening it.<p>

She dealt. Boys with eyes like that didn't stay single for long. She wasn't just gonna sit around and mope like one of those stupid girls in those stupid movies where everyone wears hats and pines themselves to fuckin' death. Nuh-uh. Besides, she had the coolest car in the history of the world to build. Who needed boys when you had engines?

In fact, just to show how much it _didn't _matter that Lucas Swan had picked up some pasty-faced bitch-ass skank who probably didn't even know what a blowjob was, Ruth didn't go over to his house for the rest of the spring. _Not even to check on the truck_. So _there_.

And at no point did she eat a box of Oreos and sniffle. Ruth Black did _not _do girl shit like that.

She hid the Oreo box in the bottom of the trash bin.

After that, though, she felt better in general, which she figured was a fluke and didn't have anything to do with actual Oreo heart-healing properties because that was just an urban legend. It wasn't really in Ruth's nature to stay in a funk for very long. Funks took _way _too much work to maintain when it was a lot easier to just let things go and move on.

Then her dad, who up until then had seemed like a reasonable human being, sent her to _Lucas Swan's prom_ to deliver some insane Council message. He did it by bribing her with a vital and very rare piece of the Rabbit's engine, which was _cheating_. Ruth wanted to avoid making a fool of herself in front of Lucas, but she wanted the engine piece more.

He danced with her and took the crazy message with good grace and didn't seem to notice that she hadn't known how to make Rebecca's dress fit right. Lucas really was a nice guy.

Ruth also got to meet The Girlfriend. _Her _dress fit like a _glove_.

She ate another box of Oreos when she got home.

Summer passed without incident, and school started up again, and all was generally good until she heard about Lucas getting dumped. The more she heard about how messed up he was about it, the more Ruth hated The Girlfriend with whole new flaming white hot fires of fuckin' detestation. Her temper had started to get a little rough around the edges, and whenever she pictured The Girlfriend's face she felt like ripping things apart. With her teeth.

It was kinda weird.

Then one totally ordinary afternoon where nothing interesting was happening at all, Lucas Swan showed up with a couple of broken down motorbikes and a _proposition _and an offer to come hang out all the time and handed her her wrench and he had a soft spot for the thingies and the rumors were true, he was super-messed up, but he smiled at her a couple of times.

She bet she could make him smile more.

The coolest car in the history of the world could wait.

* * *

><p>Ruth backs up and points at the road. "Okay. Go ahead. Careful on the gas, watch the brake, and don't run into the potholes." He gives her an exasperated look, and she raises her hands innocently. "I'm just sayin'."<p>

Then Lucas takes off, maybe a little faster than Ruth would've recommended for someone who didn't know what a piston was - not that that really mattered at the moment, but it was sort of indicative - but he's not doing too bad for a first-timer. Ruth's got what she's sure is a really stupid-looking grin on her face. She bets he's smiling too - and _she's_ the one who did it. He'll remember that, remember that _Ruth Black_ is the one who can make him smile, and she'll finish the Rabbit and he'll be _so _impressed that she's built the coolest car in the history of the world-

-and he's going too fast. _Way _too fast. Before Ruth can shout a warning, the front tire jams in one of the potholes and he's off the bike and hits a fucking _rock_-

Ruth's at his side in less than ten seconds. She didn't even know she could run like that.

"Ow," says Lucas weakly.

"No kidding!" Shit, there's blood all over his face. "What the fuck were you _thinking?_ Even _I_ don't do that on this road!"

"It was fun."

Ruth's _this _close to smacking him. She's really into Lucas, more than she knows she should be, but sometimes he just says the _stupidest _things. "You're lucky you didn't crack your head open," she grumbles.

"Guess so."

The cut's along his forehead, and he'll probably need stitches, but it could be a hell of a lot worse. She strips off her sweatshirt and presses it against where the blood's flowing. "Just call me Florence Nightingale," she jokes.

He blinks at her, and she thinks maybe she's imagining it, but it almost seems like he's glancing down her tank top. It's probably by accident, though, 'cause she's leaning right over him, where else is he _supposed_ to look?

Then he hazily focuses on her face instead. A minute later he says, "Hey, Ruth, did you know that you're sort of beautiful?"

Ruth opens her mouth, closes it, and busies herself with the very important task of keeping the boy she's in love with from bleeding to death on the side of the road. "You hit your head pretty hard, didn't you?" she says, and thank you fucking _God _for letting her voice stay steady.

"Yeah," says Lucas, "I think I did."

* * *

><p>Ruth figured out quickly that Lucas had different kinds of days. There were the days when he didn't say stuff or do much or really react to anything. There were the days when he <em>did <em>say stuff, but it was all sarcastic and dark in a funny-but-not-really sort of way. Then there were the days when he smiled.

The more time he spent in her garage, the more days were smiling days. And that was so awesome she practically couldn't stand it.

Her strict policy of _absolutely no one will know about this ever ever __**ever**_ started to go under. Billy had started giving her warning glances which she of course ignored because she would never entirely forgive him for the prom thing. Quil and Embry popped in a couple of times while Lucas was there, which was bound to happen sooner or later since they had a habit of popping up in general, and soon after that they started saying shit like _Is Lucas coming over today?_with the name all long and drawn out. Even Charlie had started inviting himself over for spaghetti nights and just happened to bring his son.

People were onto her but she didn't care. She was making Lucas Swan smile.

The best part was that he was getting all _person_-like now. Ruth was getting to know him for _real_. She talked about random shit while she was working, just whatever floated into her head, and then he started talking _back_, slow at first but then more and more. There were all kinds of interesting tidbits: Lucas was real embarrassed about not knowing how to fix stuff, he'd loved the desert, he had this chip on his shoulder about marriage and weird issues with his mom, he'd never actually had a best friend before. He didn't say anything about The Girlfriend, but that wasn't exactly a shock. There were plenty of better things to think about.

When he was having a smiling day Lucas was smart and funny and cool and really nice and once he put his hand on her back while he tried to look in the Rabbit's engine and _whoa_.

He was still pretty fucked up, though, no two ways about it. Ruth had asked him what he thought they should do once the bikes were finished, because she'd been thinking really hard about that and figured she'd better have something planned ahead of time. He'd just said, _If I stopped coming over you wouldn't notice_. It was one of the bad days. _I'm easy to forget._

She'd taken his hand because she did that whenever she thought she could get away with it. _You_, she'd told him, _are __**completely **__full of shit._

That had gotten her another smile.

* * *

><p>He <em>does <em>need stitches and he seems weirdly happy about that, which kind of worries Ruth, but he's a big boy and he can take care of himself, right? She tells him the scar's gonna look awesome. Chicks dig scars. _She _digs scars.

It's late when she gets home from the hospital. Her sweatshirt is ruined, but oh well, nothing to be done about that, she'll just save it for _really _grubby days or something. She's gross even by her own standards, and she strips off her dirty clothes. Before she goes to bathe she ducks into her sisters' room.

Ruth sets her towel aside and stares at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She runs her hands over the planes of her stomach, cups her breasts, examines the lengths of her legs. She looks over her shoulder and checks out her butt. She leans closer to the glass and touches her eyebrows. She straightens up and, after a moment of consideration, pulls her ponytail loose. A curtain of black falls to her waist.

_Sort of beautiful_, Ruth thinks, and raises her chin proudly.

She sings KT Tunstall in the shower.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Next<em>**_: The Bedroom  
><em>


	3. New Moon: The Bedroom

_but what's stranger still / is how something so small can keep you alive  
>Arcade Fire, "We Used To Wait"<em>

* * *

><p>The sound of pebbles hitting the glass pane wakes him up from a decidedly less-than-restful sleep. Lucas opens his eyes before he's really stopped dreaming and wonders why Mary's bothering to knock; then he remembers again that she's gone, so he rolls out of bed to find out who <em>else <em>would be at his window in the middle of the night.

It's Ruth.

Balanced in the _tree_.

"Hey," she says as he gapes. "Get out of the way, will ya?"

"What the hell are you doing up there?"

"Come on, move it, I'm not sure I can do this without breaking something."

"No! Get down before you kill yourself!"

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you." There's a series of quick, graceful, totally _not _Ruth-like movements, and then she's in his bedroom standing right in front of him. "That was cool," she says, looking pleased with herself.

Lucas glares at her. "I didn't say you could come in," he says acidly. He feels guilty the second her expression falls, but he's still not having any of this. He's taken enough shit.

"So you're pretty mad, huh."

"You think?"

He isn't mad. He is _fucking pissed_. And since Ruth is the last person in the world Lucas expected to make him feel like this, it's that much worse.

* * *

><p>Yeah, he wasn't blind. Lucas knew Ruth had a little crush on him, and he was being a total dick for hanging around so much even after he knew, but he couldn't seem to give her up. Ruth was like the sun - or like Prozac if he was feeling less sentimental. He suspected he ought to find some <em>real <em>Prozac... or recreational drugs... or start drinking heavily at the very least. Find another way to deal. A girl like Ruth didn't deserve to be some loser's medication.

But he kept going back anyway, sucked in by those grins and the way she tripped over her boots.

The bikes were every bit as great as Lucas had hoped. When he rode them he could practically _hear_ Mary in his head yelling at him for being so reckless, and imagining that she would be as miserable as she'd made him was a fan-fucking-tastic feeling. When his head got stitched up there were parts of him that felt _extremely _pleased. Those were the parts that Ruth couldn't seem to make better. On the plus side they didn't seem to eat him up quite so much anymore, which felt good, which kept bringing him back to the Blacks' garage, which once again made him a dick.

Lucas was getting really good at the whole self-loathing thing. He thought it ought to be some kind of Olympic sport. He was pretty sure he'd get a gold medal, except it wouldn't make any sense to give out a gold medal in the Loser Olympics, because it might make you feel good about yourself and that would defeat the whole point.

And things had been made profoundly, _epically _worse by the fact that on the day of the bike crash he'd seen what Ruth Black looked like without her sweatshirt on. He'd come home from the hospital that night and, for the first time in a year, the girl in his dreams wasn't pale and glittering beneath him. She was brown and warm _above_ him and laughed in his ear like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Lucas couldn't look Ruth in the eye for two days.

* * *

><p>"Get out," Lucas says flatly. "Whatever you've got to say, go say it to Sam Uley."<p>

Man, he fucking _hates _Sam Uley.

"_You're _the one I want to talk to." Ruth scoots past him and sits down on the edge of his bed. "Just for a few minutes, anyway, 'cause then I've gotta get back. I'm not even supposed to be here right now."

"Right." Lucas shoves the window wider because Ruth is sitting on his bed in cut off shorts and a guy's undershirt and no bra and giving him an imploring look and he wants her _gone _. "Don't let me keep you."

"Please don't be mad," she begs. "I know I was a total bitch this afternoon, and I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean any of it."

"Oh, well, _that_ makes it all better." So she says one thing and then takes it back and expects him to be happy about it? Not fucking likely.

Ruth groans and flops back on the bed. That's... worse. But Lucas reminds himself that Sam Uley's probably seen her like that too, and that keeps him plenty angry. "Look," she says, "I really, really, _really _want to explain what's going on - but I can't."

"You've got a boyfriend and you're too busy to hang out anymore. There. I explained it for you. Now go away."

Apparently he doesn't even have to actually _date _a girl to get dumped.

"Oh my God that is _not_ even-" She runs her hands through her new, short hair, looking frustrated as all hell. "Okay," she says. She sits up, blows out a breath, and stares fixedly at the opposite wall. "Okay. Listen. Maybe if I- Do you remember how I told you some stories once?"

He blinks. "Stories?"

"Yeah, the stories about the-" Then Ruth makes a strangled noise and grabs for her throat.

For panicked second Lucas forgets that he's pissed and holy shit is she choking to death? "Ruth? Oh fuck, wait, don't move-"

But she just waves him off, looking more annoyed than anything else. "God_damn_ it," she growls, and for a second the sweet kid Lucas thought he knew looks _dangerous_. "I can't even tell you _that _much."

Lucas has no idea what's going on.

* * *

><p>She told him about Sam a few days after her friend Embry stopped coming around. That didn't bother Lucas, since Embry along with Quil reminded him way too much of the snickering guys in middle-school shop class, but it seemed to really be getting to Ruth. <em>He's hanging out with Sam Uley now, <em>she'd said glumly as they walked along the beach.

_Who's Sam Uley?_

_He's just this guy. Some kids follow him around like he's the fuckin' messiah or something. Now Embry won't talk to me anymore._

_Oh. That sucks._

_Uh-huh. And it's... they're being... ugh._

_What?_

Ruth had stopped and thrown rocks out in the waves, which Lucas did not join her at because he could tell that his rocks wouldn't go nearly as far as hers and seriously, weight-training, it needed to happen. _Sam watches me,_ Ruth said finally. _He watches me like some kind of creeper. His whole gang does. Embry too, now. It's really weird, and I don't like it._

That was Not Okay. _Where does he live?_ Lucas had demanded furiously. _I'm going to go kick the shit out of him. _

Ruth laughed so hard she'd fallen on her ass in the sand. He guessed that was good because it meant she wasn't looking so downbeat, but it was also very insulting. _Fine. Never mind, then._

_Oh, c'mon, don't go all mopey on me. _She'd thrown her arms around his knees, still giggling, and his already warm face got warmer. _It's just that Sam's __**huge **__and he'd flatten you like a pancake. But it was a really cool offer._

Lucas had patted her head, but he'd stayed fairly sulky for the rest of the day. Some asshole was making Ruth uncomfortable and he'd offered to do the appropriately chivalrous thing, which was of course to beat the asshole up, and he'd gotten laughed at for it. Come _on_. Okay, he'd never been in a fight before... but it wasn't a complicated concept. Hit the other guy. Duck when he tries to hit you. There. Simple.

How big could Sam really be, anyhow?

* * *

><p>"I'm not sure if you're aware of this," Lucas says, "but you're making absolutely no sense." It's two in the morning and he is too tired. "If you have something to say, then <em>say <em>it. Don't pull that girl-riddle crap."

One of the things he loves about Ruth is that she doesn't do the head games thing. Ruth just says what she thinks and doesn't expect him to guess the meaning behind it - or at least she did until now, and that's fucking him up, because he really thought _she _was different. Which apparently goes to show just how much he sucks at judging girls.

Ruth grabs his arm and yanks him down to his knees in front of the bed and _shit _it hurts. He knew she was strong, but what the hell? Before he can demand an explanation, though, she cups his face and presses her forehead to his. Her hands are hot like coffee mugs. "Work with me," she murmurs. Her eyes are squeezed shut. "The stories. On First Beach. You can do this."

Getting seriously unnerved by this whole thing, Lucas tries to set aside his annoyance and focus. Ruth, stories, First Beach... oh. Right. "The Cold Ones," he says reluctantly. The first hint he'd gotten about Mary being a little more than just reclusive and on a weird diet. He should never have asked any of those stupid questions, or he wouldn't be in this mess now.

Which isn't entirely true. He'd already been half-way in love with Mary by then. He probably would've worshipped her even if he never found out about the vampire stuff, although admittedly it would've made the marble body thing a lot more weird.

"That's right," Ruth encourages. "The Cold Ones. But there was more to it, right?" Lucas tries to shake his head, but she holds him firm. "C'mon, please, please oh please oh _please _remember, you've gotta be with me here, it'd be so much easier if..."

And, to Lucas' surprise and absolute horror, Ruth - _Ruth!_- starts to sniffle. "Oh my God," he sputters, "don't do that! Don't cry!"

"I'm _not_," Ruth says quickly. Except she hiccups as she does.

Holy _shit_.

* * *

><p>And then, of course, he'd <em>completely <em>fucked up.

Lucas invited Ruth along to the movies because Lauren had caught him flat-footed and he'd agreed to go with her before he could think of an excuse. Lauren had been after him since about five minutes post-Mary-dumpage; since he spent all his time swinging wildly between being a depressive lump and a raging asshole, it was sort of bizarre, but then Mike told him that girls dig the brooding thing. Which seemed bizarre - but then, what did Lucas know? Apparently not much.

Lauren got sick during the movie. Ruth hung out with him in the lobby and, out of nowhere, called him on his shit. _You like me more than her._

_Of course I do._

_Uh-huh. But not just her, right? You like me **most**._

Lucas had realized where Ruth was going with this, and shit it was all his fault, she'd finally caught him checking her out - which _had _to stop, even if she was legal in the state of Washington it was still skeevy, she'd only turned sixteen like three months ago - and he did his best to backpedal. _You're my best friend, Ruth. Like one of the guys._

To his shock, that bit of epic douchebaggery didn't do the trick. _Listen, I know how bad you got fucked over. And it's okay that you're creeped out by dating now. But it's not like you're switching teams or anything, yeah?_

_No!_

_So, we're cool then. _She'd taken his hand and threaded her fingers through his and looked at him like she'd skipped ahead to the end of the book. _I'm not like that, _she'd said. _**I'm**__ not gonna hurt you. Girl Scout's honor._

Lucas had had to smile. _You were a Girl Scout?_

_Nah, but it sounded good, didn't it?_

It _had _sounded good, almost, but he'd pulled his hand free anyway and tried in a clumsy sort of way to explain that he didn't feel like that about her. And he didn't. Ruth was seriously great, and yeah he was starting to spend an unacceptable amount of time wondering if she'd stop wearing sweatshirts once it got warmer, but he knew what being in love felt like and that wasn't what was going on. But he'd obviously done a really bad job at the whole explaining thing - probably because he'd never had to give that kind of speech before, since guys like him really didn't wind up with a lot of opportunities to turn down awesome girls with crushes - because Ruth hadn't seemed fazed in the slightest.

Except after that she stopped calling. Then she ducked _his _calls, and had her dad make up some obviously bullshit excuse about having mono. She basically vanished from the face of the earth.

And Lucas discovered he had not, in fact, hit the bottom of the self-loathing barrel.

He was a Class-A _jerk_.

* * *

><p>"Please stop," Lucas says desperately as Ruth wipes her eyes with her wrist and if Ruth is <em>crying <em>then things must have gone to hell in ways he can't even imagine. Maybe Sam and his gang are...

Wait. _Shit_.

"Okay. Listen. How about this. Why don't you clean yourself up and-" put on a shirt that he couldn't see through "-and get a couple of things together, and you and I will clear out for a little while."

"Clear out?" Ruth echoes.

"Yeah." He stands. "Look, you don't have to be with Sam if you don't _want _to be, and if he made you think that then, well, fuck him. We'll get out of here and when you're less freaked you can call your dad and maybe he can-"

But Ruth just smiles. Except it's not one one of her usually sunny smiles, it's a smirk that looks right with her haircut and the new angles of her face and he really, _really _doesn't like it. "Lucas," she says, "you're wrong. I _do _have to be with Sam."

"Fuck that."

"No, really. And, y'know, he's not as bad as I thought."

"You said he was a creeper!"

"I was wrong. It's not like that."

"Then what _is _it like? Jesus, Ruth, just tell me what the hell is going on!"

Instead of answering, she gets up from the bed and throws her arms around him. Lucas hugs her back automatically, but he doesn't feel any less confused, and her body is different than the last time he hugged her which is adding to the weirdness of the whole thing. "Sleep on it," she says. "Just sleep on it, and try and remember?"

"Okay..."

"I have to go." She starts to climb out the window. Lucas makes a protesting noise as she does, and then she pauses and looks back up at him. "Hey, waitta sec. Are you saying it would bug you if Sam was my boyfriend?"

He gapes at her. "_Yes!_"

Ruth grins, and this time it's one of her normal, sunny grins. "_Sweet._"

Then she's gone, and Lucas smacks his forehead as he realizes what he just said.

* * *

><p>He didn't do well without her, which was a whole new level of bad that Lucas hadn't even wanted to contemplate. Without his combat-boot-tripping Prozac he sank back into total wallowing depression. He started thinking about Mary all the time again: what she was doing, if she was with someone else, if she missed him, if she was sorry. Maybe Mary was sorry. Maybe she'd come back and still be in love with him and beg his forgiveness and...<p>

...and he'd tell her to fuck off.

Right.

He even thought about going out and trying to find their old hangout spot, that meadow where he'd seen her sparkle in the sunlight for the first time and known that she absolutely, completely owned him, just to kick things and maybe set a very well-contained fire. But that would have required getting up from the sofa. Proactivity had not been Lucas Swan's strong suit for the last several months. He probably would have remained stuck to the couch stewing in his own angst until graduation if Charlie hadn't mentioned that he'd seen Ruth in Forks - and that she was with Sam Uley and looked pretty upset.

That got Lucas up in a _big_ hurry.

When he pulled into her driveway, Ruth had come out of the house before he'd closed the door of the truck. _Go away, _she'd said.

Lucas hadn't been able to close his mouth. It was raining, and Ruth was soaked to the bone and wearing nothing but an ancient tank top and torn draw-string pants that didn't even hit mid-thigh, which made it easy to see that in two weeks she'd gotten taller and leaner and lost every soft edge. Her hair was gone. It looked like she'd hacked it off with kitchen shears.

He glanced down at her bare feet and said, _Where are your boots?_

_I broke them. _Her voice was absolutely emotionless and she wouldn't look him in the eye. _You have to leave._

_Hey, wait a minute-_

_**Now**, Lucas._

_My dad says he saw you with Sam Uley. Is that what this is about? _Ruth flinched, and Lucas felt like someone had punched him in the gut. _But you said-_

_It doesn't matter what I said. We can't be friends anymore. Go home and don't come back. _She walked right back into her house and slammed the door.

And fuck, he'd thought he was _done _with that kind of hurting.

* * *

><p>When he wakes up Lucas still has no idea what's going on. He tried, he really did, but he's got nothing.<p>

He decides to go to La Push anyway and do what he should have done in the first place.

Lucas parks the truck in the Blacks' front yard and sees a bunch of guys over by the tree line, which on one hand is good, because he'd thought he was going to have to wait for hours or go to the beach or something. On the other hand, it pisses him off even more that they're hanging around outside Ruth's house like they have any right to be there.

As he crosses across the yard, he almost turns around. These guys really _are _huge. There's four of them and they're _all _half a head taller and outweigh him by about eighty pounds and they've got to be on steroids or something because _holy shit_. Ruth was right, he's gonna be flattened like a pancake.

Still, it's too late now.

The guys look at him curiously as he marches up. "Which one of you is Sam?" he demands.

The biggest one steps forward. Figures. "All right," says Lucas, and he doesn't squeak, which is at least a good start. "You and me. Let's go."

"...What?"

Oh, yeah, he's about to die. "You heard me."

Most of them seem too stunned to speak, which is not surprising considering that the part of Lucas' consciousness that is watching this scene from the outside is too horrified even to berate him, but the one to Sam's right starts to laugh derisively.

So Lucas hits _him_ instead. And it _fucking hurts,_ holy shit who knew throwing a punch hurt all the way up to your fucking _elbow_ ow ow _ow_-

Then the dude starts to shake.

Sam yells something... but Lucas has no idea what it is because _the dude fucking explodes _and before Lucas can even process what he's seeing Ruth streaks in out of nowhere and-

"This is bullshit," he says blankly as the two wolves fight and claw their way into the forest.

"You got that right," says one of the other guys, and when he claps Lucas on the back Lucas falls to his knees.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next<strong>: The Cliff Dive_


	4. New Moon: The Cliff Dive

_make those eyes at me / i lose my grip, i lose my focus  
>Tegan and Sara, "On Directing"<em>

* * *

><p>The bloodsucking bitch is <em>fast<em>, but Ruth is faster. Cars have absolutely _nothing _on this - the trees flying by so fast that everything blurs and runs together but you don't crash into anything because there's all this instinct and shit that drives you and she's gotta be clocking over a hundred miles an hour, she's _gotta _be, just using her own paws, and the bloodsucker's looking back like she can't believe Ruth is there but fuck _yeah _she's there and she's-

They hit the edge of the cliff, and the bloodsucker dives out into open space. Ruth barely manages to skid to a stop before she goes flying too.

Aw, shit.

The others can see through her eyes that she lost the leech, which is a weird sensation because she can feel it bouncing back into her own vision - that part's still super-funky - and their disappointment is her disappointment too. Ruth edges back a few steps and prepares to jump. She hasn't _tried _swimming as a wolf yet but, hey, dogs do it, why can't she?

Sam's order comes through loud and clear before she can, though. Drop the pursuit. Come back. Regroup. _Ugh_.

Ruth could kill the bloodsucker if she caught it. She knows she could. And she's _definitely _gonna catch it, she got _real _close and next time she'll-

She catches the movement out of the corner of her eye, and turns her head just in time to see Lucas take a running leap off the cliff.

* * *

><p>The most immediate issue with becoming a werewolf had been the Clothing Situation. The Clothing Situation was a very concrete problem to focus on in a world that had suddenly gotten blown halfway to hell, so Ruth devoted herself to it utterly.<p>

Apparently the guys had just been leaving their shorts at the forest's edge - y'know, when they actually phased on _purpose _instead of just exploding all over the damn place, _Paul _- and then wandered around naked like they were in a locker room instead of a forest. Ruth wasn't so much into that, thanks. Just 'cause she'd played "Show Me Yours And I'll Show You Mine" with Embry when they were five didn't mean she wanted him or anyone else to see the end result, post-puberty, and for that matter she didn't exactly want to see _them _either, even if they clearly thought they were all hot shit now thanks to the wolf physique.

The wolf physique was also a part of the Clothing Situation. After a few days, once she'd actually been able to phase at will and hadn't been freaking the fuck out every two minutes, Ruth finally got a chance to take a bath and look at herself in the mirror. She barely recognized what she saw. She had toned muscles and a thinner face and needed to shave her legs like _whoa_ and grew at least one cup size which meant she could really only run when she was on paws because otherwise it _hurt_. And her hair was all chopped off.

She didn't know what to do with herself.

In a bizarre way, it was kind of like the time she'd first gone on the rag and had burst into Billy's room screaming that she'd caught ebola and the CDC was going to come and burn up the whole town; apparently everyone forgot to check whether Mom had let her in on the period thing before she died. Though Ruth was pretty sure that Mom wouldn't have known what to tell her about growing three inches in ten days.

_Nothing _fit anymore. Her boots got shredded in the first phase. Her cargo pants and sweatshirts were too short. Her only bra was destroyed too, but fuck it, it wasn't like she had time to mess around with hooks and shit when she was supposed to be chasing vampires at the drop of a hat. In the end she'd just raided her sisters' clothes and cut up their old yoga pants, then dug out a few tank tops and supplemented with a dollar-fifty package of wifebeaters from the general store. After that she'd found some twine and figured out a system for everyone to wolf out with their shorts tied to their ankles; the scoffing stopped when Sam issued an Alpha-order to use the new system, and then thankfully there was less gratuitous nudity all the fuckin' time.

And that solved the Clothing Situation.

Which meant Ruth had to start thinking about all the other shit again.

* * *

><p>Ruth phases as she dives, and she finds him quick, but it takes too long to wrestle him back to shore because there's only so fast she can swim and he's dead weight in the water and if Lucas is <em>actually <em>dead she doesn't know what she's gonna do.

He doesn't react when his back hits the beach. His eyes are closed and his skin's turned gray. He looks like a bloodsucker. "C'mon," she mutters fiercely, feeling his neck for a pulse. "C'_mon_, honey, don't do this-"

It's there. The heartbeat is weak, but it's there. Ruth grabs his shoulders and holds him in a sitting position and starts to hit his back the way she was taught, because if you live next to the ocean you learn what to do if someone's gone under for too long but still has a pulse.

He has to open his eyes. He _has _to because Ruth is going to beat the shit out of him, and it's not fair to beat up a boy in a coma especially when you can bench press cars now.

Hit. Hit. Hit.

Sam's calling to her from the tree line. Ruth ignores him. "Wake up wake up wake _up_!"

Hit. Hit. Hit.

He _can't _die. She won't _let _him.

"_Breathe_, dammit!"

Then oh thank fucking _God _there's a noise, a gurgle like when you shove an empty milk jug underwater, and Lucas opens his brown eyes and pukes up about a gallon of lung sludge. Ruth's _this _close to bursting into tears. "Keep horking," she says as he coughs raggedly. "Get it out or you'll grow barnacles in your chest."

Lucas gives her a look. "Barnacles?" he says, or rather mouths, because all that comes out is a rough whisper.

"That's what my dad says, anyhow." She whacks him again, and this time it's harder but not quite hard enough to break his ribs. "What the hell were you _thinking_?" she demands, having to swallow past the lump in her throat. "I know Charlie's not the fuzziest guy but you'd've fucking broken his heart and I... and I-"

He cuts her off by waving a weak hand. "No," he rasps. "Cliff-diving."

"_Cliff-diving?_"

"Uh-huh."

Ruth stares at him. "From that height. Alone. In this weather."

"Yeah."

She takes a few shaky breaths, then launches herself into his arms and almost knocks him back over and doesn't care that he coughs more lung sludge onto her shoulder or that she's naked 'cause he's only half-conscious anyway. "Shit, Lucas,_ I _would've taken you cliff-diving," she says, almost exploding from happiness and relief because he was just being stupid like with the bikes. He hadn't tried to do _that_.

Sam calls to her again, and she finally gets up, pulls on her shirt and shorts in a hurry, and starts the complicated task of getting Lucas home before he freezes to death.

* * *

><p><em>Who the fuck would date a leech?<em> she'd said. _He can't have known. Not a chance._

Ruth made the argument over and over and _over _again with Sam and the Pack, but nothin' doin'. They pointed out that Lucas and The Girlfriend had been together for, like, six months, and that's a long time not to notice that you're getting frostburn on your dick. _Swan might as well be one of them_, Sam had said. _We know where his loyalties like, and you can't be friends with him anymore. And that's it._

Ruth nearly bit his head off. Literally.

They didn't _know _Lucas. They didn't know how great he was, and how his smile made her feel - even though they were starting to get an inkling thanks to that stupid Pack-mind bullshit - and they didn't know how dark his moods got without her. They didn't know that he _liked _her liked her but for some reason just hadn't come around to dealing with it yet, and that if she stopped seeing him he might talk himself into thinking that he _didn't_ like her and then she'd have to start all over again. And they didn't know that there was _No. Way. _he could have dated a dead thing if he'd known what it was.

But Sam ordered her to break it off, which was like being wrapped in a straitjacket. When Lucas came to see her she'd _had_ to sent him away. He looked like she'd slapped him when it was her job to make him smile.

So Ruth had figured out a way around the order so she could go see him, and then Paul, doing something useful with his temper for once, phased at a very bad moment and took care of the whole problem. _Hah! _Lucas knew everything and it wasn't even her fault.

But it turned out he _had_ known The Girlfriend was a bloodsucker. Ruth literally stopped in her tracks when he told her, which was something she'd always thought was just an expression but apparently not. He'd _known_. It was gross and scary and made Ruth look at him in a different and not-so-good light.

_They're not as bad as you think, _he'd said.

_You __**have **__to be kidding. After what it did to you?_

_**She**__, not __**it**__. And that... I mean..._ It was a sad day, and on sad days Lucas never hated The Girlfriend as much as he ought to. _It's hard to explain._

Ruth had just snorted. _Bet she was __**awesome **__in the sack._

Lucas blushed insta-red, and Ruth had felt guilty for hitting him with that one - until she realized that his blush wasn't just 'cause she'd cut at him with bad memories. It was way more than that, way _weirder_ than that, and maybe The Girlfriend had been his girlfriend but she was a leech and what could they have really _done_...

And in that moment a bunch of things about Lucas suddenly made a _lot_ more sense.

He had changed the subject real quick, and asked questions about the bloodsucker they were chasing. Ruth told him all about it, mostly talking about how awesome it was to be able to run that fast and see in the dark and how that almost made up for the other stuff, but once she described the vampire they'd killed and the vampire they were after now Lucas had groaned and said he'd met them both before.

_Wow_, Ruth had said as Lucas finished explaining. _You've got shit luck, you know that?_

_Yeah. I know._

* * *

><p>He's shaking like a leaf by the time they get to her house. Billy's gone to the hospital to check on Harry - which, by the way, oh <em>shit <em>- so Ruth pulls a couple of his old sweats out of the closet. "Here. Change before you freeze to death."

Lucas starts peeling off his wet clothes, his teeth chattering the whole time; it's really tempting to stay in the room to "make sure he's okay" but he's obviously too out of it for that, so she goes to find some blankets instead... though she waits until she's sure he can get his jeans off. 'Cause his fingers are probably numb. He might need her help.

He doesn't, but she confirms that he's got a great ass.

When Lucas comes out of the bedroom he looks drier but still gray and bleary. As soon as he hits the couch he crashes, and Ruth knows she's in love because she even likes the way he snores.

She's not quite sure she believes him about the cliff-diving thing. She's gotta stick with him more. He'd been doing so good, then she had to ditch him for patrolling all the time, and now look where he's ended up: jumping a hundred feet into the ocean. She'll just have to make her case to Sam again, run all the night shifts or something so she can spend her days with Lucas until he perks back up.

It's so sappy, the way she feels about him. These days it's like she's walked out of some Hallmark card, one of the ones with lacy edges and pictures of rainbows and puppies. If it were someone else Ruth would be laughing herself to pieces over the whole thing. But it's not someone else, it's her, and she knows she's running a big risk falling for a boy who's got Issues with a capital I but it's way too late now.

She falls asleep next to the couch.

* * *

><p>When they <em>were<em> able to spend time together, Ruth saw him looking at her. She knew he'd been looking before, too, but it didn't happen as often then, or maybe she just hadn't been noticing it. Now, though, after the wolf-thing... her Sex Radar had gone from, like, AA battery-operated to plugged into a nuclear power station. She _felt _it when Lucas looked. She _liked _it when he looked. And she kept thinking about how good it would feel to just shove him to the ground and fuck his brains out.

She'd been thinking that stuff already, of course, but now her fantasies were triple X and in Technicolor; thank you, Pack-mind, for filling her on all the little details of sex in an awkward yet incredibly educational way. It wasn't like Ruth hadn't known plenty of shit before, but Jared and that Kim girl were just fuckin' _deviant_. It seemed like the guys thought about their dicks practically every five minutes - well, except for Sam, but he was the only one getting any on a regular basis so many not being hard up made a difference - and Ruth came to the conclusion that when Lucas was looking, his thoughts were probably at least in the same ballpark.

So she started keeping track of what made him look the most. Stretching, check. Bending down, check. Being wet, _way _check. She made a point of needing to grab something from outside whenever it was raining, just to watch Lucas turn red and shift in his seat.

_Something up?_

_No! No, everything's fine, nothing's up! Just gonna go get a soda!_ And Lucas would sprint out the door toward the house, leaving Ruth to towel her hair off smugly.

One of these days she wasn't going to let him run away when he blushed. Before he got to his feet she'd push him right back down into the lawnchair, straddle his waist, and see how much it would take before she broke through all the fuck-up-edness The Girlfriend left behind and got him to realize that it wouldn't be like that with the two of them, because she, _Ruth_, was a hundred and eight degrees, and he liked _warmth_.

Ruth could make Lucas smile, and she bet she could make him shout, too.

On the other hand, if she pushed or teased too much he might go all weird on her. She settled for making it clear that she there in a very _female_ sort of way, and waited for him to make a move. It was sort of a hard line to walk, and sometimes it was tough to be patient... but everything would turn out okay. He'd catch up eventually.

As long as he liked her most and thought she was sort of beautiful, Ruth didn't mind waiting. She had loads of time.

* * *

><p>Harry Clearwater dies, which is awful. There's arrangements to make so Ruth and Lucas clear out while Billy makes the calls.<p>

She has to drive the truck to Forks, 'cause his hands are still too stiff and cold to hold the wheel properly. It makes Ruth think that maybe she should've taken him to a hospital instead of just letting him nap in dry clothes; he would've complained like all hell but doctors exist for a reason and one of them is to keep important parts from freezing off. The way he's shivering looks miserable and kind of adorably pathetic, so she says, "Y'know I'm a furnace, right?"

Lucas scoots closer. She takes one of his hands and places it flat against her belly. He stiffens - well at least _one _way, Ruth's watching the road so she's not sure about the other - but then he relaxes and slides his other hand between the seat and the small of her back without prompting.

Ruth smiles. "Better, yeah?"

"Yeah," he says. "Better."

The rest of the drive back to Forks is silent. Ruth's not sure why Lucas isn't talking, but _she's _staying quiet because if she opens her mouth she's pretty sure she'll say something like _I love you take me now_ and that would be bad. He rests his cheek against her temple and she has to chew on her lip so she doesn't start reciting poetry or something equally embarrassing.

When she pulls into the driveway and parks the truck, he doesn't move his hands. And there ain't no way in fuckin' hell she's opening the door if he's still touching her like that. So she just waits and keeps very calm, which she thinks is a seriously epic accomplishment all things considered.

"Thanks, Ruth," he finally says.

"No prob." She isn't quite sure what he's thanking her for, but whatever it is she'd do it as many times as he wanted.

Lucas doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't get out of the cab either. Ruth stays extremely still 'cause if she makes any sudden movements she might spook him.

His thumb starts to move in a tiny circle against her spine.

Ruth holds her breath.

She feels him swallow, and then he says, his voice still all messed up from the ocean, "Ruth... I, uh..."

"Mm-hmm?" Come on. Come on. Come _on_.

He turns his face against her hair - and then he straightens. He lets go of her waist. Ruth looks up in surprise and sees Lucas staring out the back window.

"Wait," he says, "I know that car."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Next<em>**_: The First Breakup_


	5. New Moon: The First Breakup

__what's the point of being patient for a broken heart?  
>Arcade Fire, "You Tried To Turn Away My Fears"<em>_

* * *

><p>"Listen," Lucas says. His hand is freezing in Mary's grip, but there's no way in hell he's pulling it free. "I think it'll be better to wait until after graduation. That way it won't seem so strange when I... you know... disappear."<p>

Jesus. He's really going to do this. _Fuck_.

Mary looks away from the road and gives him one of her dazzling smiles, and he feels the sickness around his heart lift just a little. Okay, yeah, he's nervous. But there's no choice. There never was, really. And if he didn't, he'd basically be saying he wants to kill the girl who loves him rather than accept immortality. Yeah. _That _made sense.

Besides, it was all his idea anyhow.

Yep, it's good to keep it in those terms. Lucas is doing his best to think in a logical sort of way, given the givens of the fucking illogical situation he's found himself in, and becoming a vampire is the clearest solution to the variety of problems that have plagued him since the moment he stepped foot in Forks.

Then the Volvo skids to a halt. Mary throws her arm in front of Lucas to stop him from hitting the dashboard, and they both stare out the window at the person blocking their path.

Ruth's eyes meet his. She gives him a look that a week ago Lucas would've sworn she wasn't capable of. She turns and jogs into the woods.

"She wants to talk to me," Mary says quietly.

Like Lucas hadn't guessed that.

* * *

><p>His favorite fantasy - and correspondingly the most guilt-inducing - was the one where Ruth went down on him in the garage.<p>

Most of Lucas' thoughts about Ruth involved the garage anyway, because that was just where his mind automatically placed her. _Ruth_ meant the smell of engine grease and the sound of rain beating on an aluminum roof. It took effort to picture them in a bed or a shower or on a couch - not that he was putting _in_ any effort, because for the love of God he wasn't - but the garage? Way too easy. _Way _the fuck too easy to be watching her sit cross-legged on the floor as she tinkered with some mechanical thing or another, then catching one of her sunny grins... and starting to think about her edging closer to the lawnchair he'd basically claimed as his own, and how she would just lean forward, nip at the inside of his thigh through his jeans, unbuckle his belt...

That was usually the point at which Lucas would need to run inside to grab a soda from the fridge. And hold it against his crotch. While he banged his head on the wall.

It _didn't matter _that Ruth never wore a bra anymore. Or that her legs were fucking amazing and he wasn't even a leg man. Or how in his mind she always looked like she was enjoying herself while they did whatever he imagined they were doing. She was his best friend, and he was a loser, and he would be using her crush on him to get his rocks off. If there was a Hell that would be an express ticket to the lowest circle, the one with the pointy rocks in your ears and demons holding red-hot pokers against your 'nads.

Not that he'd have that problem, because the Pack would get there first. _Just so you know,_ Jared had said good-naturedly one day at Emily's, _hurt our sister and we'll cut your balls off._ Then he'd laughed, and then Lucas had laughed, and then Jared had said, _No, seriously, Paul's got pruning shears in the back of his truck with your name on 'em. So eyes forward and hands to yourself, leechlover._

It would be all right. After all, he had been in a relationship with Mary for six months and he'd never even gotten to second base. He wasn't going to explode. Of course it had been kind of different then, because he'd never been able to imagine Mary doing anything like _that_; when he tried - and he had - it was like looking at some really bad mental Photoshop with ragged edges and conflicted lighting. But he had no trouble picturing Ruth in her soaked tank top with that beaming smile, swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock before leaning forward and sucking with little wet sounds and sliding her own fingers into her shorts and getting herself off at the same time, moaning and swallowing as-

Jesus. _No._ Maybe Lucas was a depressive asshole who relied on sweet kids to keep him from crashing motorbikes or staring at walls, but he wasn't going to let his dick make his decisions. He hadn't turned into one of _those_ guys. It was practically the only thing he still had going for him.

Ruth. Was. Off. Limits.

He knew he shouldn't've gone cliff-diving. But he'd been in a shitty mood, one of the _really _bad ones, where he just seemed to be walking around in this dark fog where his entire life _sucked _and a vampire wanted to kill him and his ex-girlfriend had told him he was her whole life and he was picturing his best friend naked and he couldn't figure out how to get a handle on _any_ of it and it was _always cloudy, every single fucking minute of every single fucking day _and if things didn't change he was going to find Charlie's shotgun and-

So he jumped off the cliff. All the other guys did it, why couldn't he? He had to prove... something, he wasn't sure what exactly, but _something_. And Mary would have died. He didn't mean to hit his head on the rocks, but when he swallowed the first lungful of water he wasn't all that sorry about it.

Even _he_ understood that was bad.

But Ruth had saved him, because she was freakishly good at that. He'd woken up at her house to find her asleep on the floor next to him, stretched out on her side with her lashes brushing her cheeks. Feeling a lot calmer in general, Lucas looked at her for a long time - longer than it was appropriate to look at a sleeping girl, really - and started to think that maybe, if he tried... maybe it could work. Maybe the best friend-to-girlfriend transition could turn out okay. Maybe once it actually happened he wouldn't feel like such a tool. And, uh, he'd start carrying pepper spray or something to protect himself from the Pack.

Then Alice came back, and everything went straight to hell.

* * *

><p>Ruth raises her chin. "Guess you're not dead," she says flatly.<p>

"Guess I'm not," Lucas answers. His voice sounds normal, which is kind of weird considering he feels like he's off the cliff and sucking down gallons of seawater again. He'd known she was mad, but she's never looked at him like this before, like there's something hard inside her. There's never been _anything_ hard inside Ruth before now.

It hurts like hell.

Mary releases his hand and steps forward. Even now at this _incredibly _bad time Lucas can't help but be amazed by how beautiful she is. It's unreal. "Before you say anything, I would like to thank you. Thank you for everything you've done. Thank you for being here for Lucas when I... I wasn't." The misery in her face is obvious, but Mary's never made much of an effort to hide when she's in pain. "I can't ever express the depth of my gratitude."

There's a long pause - then Ruth spits on the ground. "Fuck you, you cold-cunt bitch."

Mary's eyes widen in shock. Lucas just rubs his forehead. "Ruth-"

"Shut up, Lucas." Ruth strides forward, and her nose wrinkles. Oh, right, vampires stink to werewolves. At some point he's really going to need to make a list of all this stuff. "You listen to _me_, bloodsucker. You and your tick family might be back for now, but the treaty's still on. _All _of the treaty. And we're gonna fuckin' hold you to _every last word._"

"I know," says Mary. She clasps her hands behind her back and it doesn't put a single line in her silk blouse, how does she do _that_? Is it a vampire power? Should it go on the list?

It occurs to Lucas that he's focusing on _anything _other than what's happening in this conversation, because this conversation can't actually _be_ happening.

"So you get that we'll tear you apart and burn you to ash if you step one goddamn foot out of line."

"You won't have to worry," Mary says coolly. "I promise that when it happens, we'll be far outside of the treaty area. Your tribe won't have anything to worry about."

Lucas closes his eyes, but he hears Ruth say, "_When_ it happens? What is this _when _bullshit?"

This can't be his life, it really can't.

* * *

><p>Lucas figured he didn't really have any right to be mad at Alice. It wasn't her fault, after all. She'd been solidly in the Pro-Turning camp from day one.<p>

But just because he wasn't mad at _her _didn't mean she wasn't mad at _him_. She'd ranted for a solid five minutes before he'd managed to tell her that _No_, he hadn't been trying to kill himself. He'd gone cliff-diving. It was just a big psychic misunderstanding, which Lucas never thought were words he'd say in all seriousness and yet there they were, coming out of his mouth.

It was bizarre seeing her sitting in his living room. There had been some part of him that had started to believe the whole vampire thing was something his mind made up to help him deal with, well, life; there was a very good chance that in a year or two he would've laughed the whole thing off if Ruth hadn't turned into a werewolf, which sort of made the whole supernatural thing hard to deny.

_We hear from Mary sometimes_, Alice had said out of nowhere. _She's... not doing too well._

_Good_, he'd snapped.

_You don't mean that, Lucas._

_Whatever._

Then she'd sniffed the air and, what, did he smell like dead fish or something? No, apparently he smelled like wet dog, or rather like Ruth, or maybe it was _only _Ruth that Alice was smelling because Ruth was standing in the doorway and she was seriously pissed off.

_Does that leech think it's staying? _she had demanded after dragging him into the kitchen by his shirt collar.

_I don't know._ Lucas didn't really want Alice to go, not yet. The feeling that hey, he hadn't imagined the whole thing, was really good. Also he wanted to hear more about Mary. Specifically about how Mary was miserable, and how she missed him, and how she was sorry about everything she'd said...

_Well, it **can't**. Send it back to wherever it came from._

_**She**_, he'd corrected again, _not __**it**_.

_Are you kidding me? They waltz back and you're just gonna-_ But whatever she was going to say got cut off, because the phone rang, and Ruth answered it, and her face had turned bright red as she listened to whoever was speaking.

_I'm very sorry,_ she'd said after a long minute. She'd spoken the words with relish. _He can't come to the phone. He's getting ready for a funeral. _And she slammed the receiver down.

Lucas had frowned. _What was that?_

_Nothing important_, she'd said coldly.

Alice's shriek had echoed through the house and made them both wince.

Mary thought he was dead. Mary wanted to die too.

And it was _all his fucking fault._

* * *

><p>"Can you give me a minute?" Lucas whispers to Mary. When she looks nervously across the clearing he says, "C'mon, she's not dangerous."<p>

Mary blinks, and he can tell she's reading Ruth's thoughts. After a moment she shakes her head. "Of course. You know you don't have to ask. Whatever you want, love." But even as she says it she looks unhappy, which nearly makes him change his mind because Mary being unhappy is basically the number one Bad Thing right now. Still, though, she gives him a peck on the cheek and releases his hand.

Ruth's trembling all over, and not in an about-to-phase kind of way. "You can't," she says, looking up at him - but only a little bit up. She's a lot taller than Mary. "Lucas, you can't do this."

"I have to." He has to.

"But... but you..." Her eyes fill with tears, and Lucas is starting to think that letting the Volturi kill him might've been the better course of action, except then Mary would be dead too and that's the whole problem. "You _can't_."

All the werewolfness is gone from her. She's the same girl that handed him the shoebox full of bad thingies which is still sitting on his dresser. On one hand, that makes things way, way worse... but on the other, it's a little easier, now. She'll be fine. She's a kid with a crush because she hasn't seen enough of the world yet to know how much better she can do. In a year it won't matter to her at all.

He's really easy to forget.

"Please," Ruth begs. "Just... you don't need her. You _don't_. Don't do this."

Lucas swallows hard. "Do I have to choose?" Fuck, not that, anything but that. He's not leaving yet. He could have his best friend for a few more months if she doesn't make him choose.

She doesn't say anything for a moment... then Ruth's eyes flick over his shoulder. "No," she says with something dark and scary in her voice. "You don't have to choose." She knocks him to the side; he thuds to the ground and _oh shit_-

Mary shouts his name.

* * *

><p>Lucas had spent months and months fantasizing about what it would be like to hurt Mary as bad as he'd been hurting. He'd done some seriously crazy shit and taken vicious satisfaction about what it would have done to her when she still cared about that kind of thing.<p>

Now it had happened, all he had fantasized about had come true, and it didn't feel satisfying. It felt like his chest was caving in.

Alice made phone calls as fast as she could. Lucas had just paced the kitchen while Ruth stood with her arms crossed; she didn't look the least bit sorry, which shit if she'd just _handed the phone to him _this could have been avoided. It wasn't really her fault, it was his for jumping off the cliff in the first place, but if he'd had room in himself for anything but horror and guilt he'd be furious.

No one could get in touch with Mary. Alice said there was still a chance if they tried to head her off in Italy. Fine. Not a problem. He had to fix this. He had to save her.

Ruth lost it.

_Are you fucking __**insane**__? _she'd shouted at him, even as they left the house. _They're going to eat you! Actually fucking __**eat **__you!_

_I have to do something, Ruth, or she's going to die._

_**It's already dead!**_

He'd stared at her in disbelief, and she'd flinched, but she hadn't taken it back. _No matter what it does, it can't get any more dead than it is now. That thing is just a moving carcass. _

_She isn't a thing,_ he'd said slowly. The old Ruth never said or thought shit like this. _And I have to go._

He had turned to get into Alice's car, and Ruth grabbed his arm. _No, wait. Lucas, wait! _He could feel her hand shaking._ Stay. **I'm** alive._

He'd swallowed, but Mary was about to kill herself, and Ruth was not. So he got in the car, and Alice sped them away, and Lucas didn't look in the rearview mirror.

* * *

><p>It's too fast for Lucas' human eyes to follow - not to mention that his head is fucking spinning from how hard he hit the ground - but within the space of a couple heartbeats a werewolf and a vampire are ready to kill each other in the middle of a forest and Jesus, this can't be his life.<p>

"Ruth," he manages to shout through the ringing in his ears, "knock it off!"

There's a fucking terrifying moment where he thinks she won't, that she's going to try and rip Mary up anyway and very likely get herself torn to shreds in the process and no, seriously, _this can't be his life_... but the red wolf steps back, still snarling.

Mary's at his side in an instant, helping him to his feet. "Are you all right?" she asks anxiously.

"Yeah." He's bruised - y'know, again - but he's fine.

Her amber eyes close briefly as she touches his face with freezing hands. "Thank God." There's sunlight breaking through where they're standing. The shimmer of Mary's skin dazzles, as always.

Lucas hears a low whine.

He's really never had a lot of chances to see Ruth in wolf form. There was the first time, when she'd fought to keep Paul from chomping his leg off, and once or twice after that, but for the most part it's been this separate thing that he knows exists but doesn't really affect him too much. So frankly he doesn't have a fucking clue how to read Ruth's expression when she's like this.

But he can follow her eyes, at least. She glances at him for about half a second, and then she's mostly looking at Mary. Lucas thinks maybe she's about to attack again except that doesn't happen, she just keeps staring, until her gaze turns to the ground where her scraps of ruined clothes are littering the leaves. Shit, she's going to have to replace those, and Lucas knows she doesn't have a lot of spares.

For some strange reason, that's the worst part yet. Lucas pulls away from Mary and steps forward. "Ruth..."

But Ruth steps backward. The whine gets worse and more awful and Lucas is one hundred percent sure that it's his fault.

* * *

><p>They'd gotten to Volterra in the nick of time. More or less literally, if there really was such a thing as a 'nick'. Mary had been prepared to commit suicide by sparkle, which was the only way Lucas could think of it because that's what Ruth would have said and the only parts of his brain that hadn't been overwhelmed by terror for the last twenty-four hours had been thinking about his best friend. But they made it, and before Mary could step out into the sunlight Lucas had grabbed her and pulled her back into the shadows.<p>

She'd felt his shoulders, his arms, his hands like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Lucas had forgotten how amazing it felt to have her touching him. _You're alive,_ she'd murmured.

_Yeah. What were you doing, Mary?_ He was exhausted and overwhelmed and had very nearly started crying. _What the fuck were you-_

_I couldn't live in a world where you didn't exist._

_But... you said you don't-_

_I lied._

She wasn't the only one who had lied; he'd lied to himself, and not very well. Fuck, he hadn't stopped loving Mary. He'd only smothered it to stop from hurting.

They left Italy as fast as they possibly could, staying alive thanks to some fast talking from Alice and a handful of promises about secret-keeping. And when Mary sat on his bed and said _exactly _what he'd been hoping for for months - she hadn't mean any of it, she loved him so much, she was so sorry - Lucas took her back almost before he'd realized what he'd done.

_But you can't do that anymore, _he'd said. _Going to the Volturi, or... not **ever**. Please._

She'd given his palm a frigid kiss. _I won't,_ she'd said. _I won't __**need **__to. We're together now. And we'll be together forever._

_What?_

_You were right all along, love. You'll be so much safer once you're one of us. I see that now._ Her tender smile made his heart pound. _It was wrong of me to question you. When we're married that will **never** happen again; I'll love, honor, and obey the way I should, I swear it._

Lucas had fallen off the bed.

* * *

><p>He knows what the whining sound is. Ruth is crying. And Lucas feels like the absolute lowest life form to ever think about crawling from the primordial ooze - but what else is he supposed to do? He got himself into this shit. He's got no one else to blame for it. He can't back out now.<p>

Mary murmurs his name, and he nods. "I have to go," he says to the wolf.

Ruth disappears through the trees in a flash of red fur.

The nervousness will go away. It'll be worth it when Mary's happy and never, ever, _ever _tries to go see the Volturi again. And Ruth... Ruth will be fine.

Lucas takes a deep breath, then follows Mary back towards the car.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next<strong>: Added Scene (Seattle)_


	6. Added Scene: Seattle

__and i see what you're doing / if i imagine you, body next to another  
>Tegan and Sara, "The Ocean"<em>_

* * *

><p>When half a month passes and she still doesn't feel any better, not even one tiny little bit, Ruth finally does the only thing she can think of. She begs off from Sam - who is obviously happy to get her misery out of the Pack-mind for a couple of days because there is <em>more <em>than enough drama going down even without her thanks to Miss Leah 'Issues' Clearwater - throws a change of underwear in the Rabbit, and peals out of town at about a hundred miles an hour because she _does _have the coolest car in the history of the world at least.

She bangs on the door just a little after noon. A peevish voice from inside shouts, "Yo, quit it, it's not like I can't-" The door opens. "Ruth?"

"Yeah." Rachel's a lot shorter than Ruth remembers. But then, it's been awhile. "Hi."

"Hey! Oh my God, you look- when did you get so- your _hair_," sputters Rachel. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong with Dad?"

"No." Ruth had a list of stupid excuses lined up in her head, but they all desert her like traitors and she starts to cry _again_ which even after doing it almost constantly for two weeks she still fuckin' hates- _freakin_' hates. She's trying not to swear as much.

Rachel's eyes widen. "Shit," she says, "just _please _tell me it's not Paul Lahote."

Ruth shakes her head and cries harder.

* * *

><p>Leah and Seth Clearwater had started phasing, which made things easier sort of. Ruth was no longer the youngest or the only girl, so there was less of the whole OH MY GOD HE FUCKED WITH OUR LITTLE SISTER machoness going on from the guys, which was good because before too much longer Ruth was going to start cracking skulls together. Just as soon as she stopped having to phase out every fifteen minutes so she could sob like a little bitch- girl- whatever. Sob like something little.<p>

The guys were obviously at kind of a loss. She guessed she couldn't blame them, after all it wasn't like _she _had any clue what to do either. But there was the constant undertone of _Motherfucking leechlover _and _Knew he was trouble_ and, under that, the one that a lot of them had floating through their heads but never said or thought out loud: _That's what happens with the palefaces._

Ruth hated them all right now.

Sam wasn't so bad, at least. Sam didn't talk crap, or try to offer advice, not that she'd take any relationship tips from the Alpha, thank you very much. _That _was a fun little painfest she was _really _getting a kick out of living through, 'cause it wasn't like her own problems were enough, she had to deal with the Imprint Soap Opera. And - in spite of what the whole Pack seemed to expect - Ruth and Leah were _not _friends just by virtue of having vaginas and broken hearts. Ruth thought Leah was being a... Ruth couldn't think of a word that wasn't a swear. Leah just thought Ruth was being pathetic.

_Quit whining_, Leah snapped one day. _You weren't even dating._

_Quit whining_, Ruth snapped back. _You didn't lose to a leech._

But the name _Clearwater_ didn't automatically mean _suckitude_. Seth had been nice about things. Seth had been... very understanding. Ruth was starting to think she would need to let him down gently, because he was two years younger and just a kid - but then she realized that that's probably what _Lucas _had thought every time they were together, and that just started her crying like a little _something_ again.

* * *

><p>Rachel sits Ruth down on the couch and Ruth tells Rachel what's going on, well, kinda. The version that doesn't involve a bunch of fairy tales. The one where her best friend who she's in love with who she thought - she <em>knows<em>- was starting to be into her goes running back to his... lots-of-bad-words ex-girlfriend.

As Ruth winds up the story, Rachel exhales in relief. "Oh, thank _God_. I thought you were pregnant."

"Jeez, Rach," says Rachel's roommate, who had wandered in mid-story and gotten a bunch of those soft tissues that have the 'fresh spring' scent in them, which hurts Ruth's wolf smell but she doesn't complain because she doesn't have a sleeve to wipe her snot on. "Way to be sympathetic. Show a _little _more compassion, huh?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "He's just a boy." She turns back to Ruth. "And I can't even believe we're talking about Charlie Swan's kid. He was such a skinny, pale little geek."

Ruth glares. Lucas might be a skinny, pale little geek, but he's _her_ skinny, pale little geek. Or he was. Except not really.

Rachel touches where Ruth's ponytail used to be. "Your hair," she says sadly. The end of Rachel's braid touches the sofa cushion. "How could you do that?"

Ruth gulps back another sob. "I had to."

"For some guy."

"It wasn't about Lucas." She hiccups, because she misses her hair too. The _leech_ has long hair. "It was a separate thing."

"What _separate thing _could possibly be worth this?" Rachel reaches up and tilts Ruth's face to the side. "I mean, jeez... did you seriously just reach over your shoulder with a pair of scissors?"

She had, but she's crying too hard to talk again. Ruth came to her sister because, after all, this is what big sisters are supposed to be for, right? But when they're away for too long Ruth sometimes forgets that Rebecca and Rachel don't _get_ her. And she doesn't get them. She drove all the way to Seattle to look for comfort that's not there because she and her sister don't understand each other even when they _try_ and this was so stupid and she just wants to go home.

"Well, listen, I think I can fix it a little," says Rachel. She doesn't look very happy either, and Ruth isn't dumb, she knows her sister _would_ help if they spoke the same language. "Maybe clean it up, add some layers. Let me just go find my stuff, 'kay?"

The roommate slides onto the couch as Rachel leaves the room. "Don't listen to her," the roommate says. "Rach is great on lots of stuff, but men aren't exactly her specialty, you know?"

"Huh?"

"...never mind."

* * *

><p>The red-haired leech was still running around pulling sh- <em>stuff<em>, but it was made a whole lot more complicated by the fact that the Cullens were back in town which meant, oh, _thanks_, the treaty was back on and the boundary lines were in place. 'Cause it wasn't good enough that they had to come back and steal Lucas, they had to come back and steal territory too.

They just got to do whatever they wanted. They could take land, they could take _people_, and no one was gonna do anything about it. Sam had promised her that if any of the bloodsuckers bit a human - and, yeah, _bit _was definitely specified, their ancestors apparently hadn't been idiots - then the Pack would be on them like white on rice. Even if it was for someone who asked to be bitten.

It made Ruth sick. How could he want that? How could anyone want that? They were _dead things_. The Girlfriend was _dead_.

And even so, Lucas wanted The Girlfriend instead of her.

She'd heard the phone ring, sometimes, and knew it was him because of the tone of Billy's voice. It was the same tone he'd used back when Rebecca had tried to date that dealer from the Makah rez, which was just insanely stupid, but no one ever said Rebecca was too smart when it came to the guys.

_No, she's not here._ Pause. _I don't know._ Pause. _Right. Goodbye._Slam.

Lucas didn't rank anywhere near Rebecca's skeezeball, but apparently Billy disagreed.

Possibly the worst part were the sad, guilty looks from Charlie the couple of times he'd come by. Ruth made a point to get out of the house and go patrolling as fast as possible when that happened. The idea that Charlie had been on her side didn't help, because it was just _that _much closer she'd apparently come.

Intellectually, Ruth knew it was supposed to stop hurting. People went through breakups - or almost breakups - whatever this had been, and they got over it. Time heals all wounds... or something.

Except Ruth was pretty sure the people who said that had never been rejected for a _corpse._

* * *

><p>"Listen," says the roommate, "I think you're overstating things. I mean, this other chick. What does she have that you don't?"<p>

"She's rich, she's gorgeous, and she smells like cocaine." To Lucas, anyhow.

The roommate laughs, like Ruth's told a joke instead of it being _true_. "Come on, now. She can't be _that_ amazing." Ruth just gives the roommate a Look, and the roommate whistles. "Okay. Well, who cares? You can get any guy you want."

Ruth blows her nose into a fresh spring tissue and shakes her head.

"Oh, please. With legs like that? If I batted for the other team I'd _totally _try to be your rebound right now."

"Really?" Ruth hasn't really been paying attention to whether anyone's been looking at her legs - or anything other part of her, for that matter. There'd only been one pair of eyes she'd cared about.

"_Definitely_. Take my advice: get out there, fool around, fluff your ego a little. Believe me, the boys will fall all over you. And besides..." The roommate winks. "_Nothing_ gets a guy hotter than a little competition. Play your cards right and he won't even _see _the other chick, cocaine-smell or not."

That's an angle she's never thought of. Huh.

Rachel comes back just as the roommate is handing Ruth one of those weird alcoholic lemonade things. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, come on. The girl's going through a break-up, well, practically. It's no time to be overprotective."

"She's sixteen. Give her that bottle and I'll crack it over your skull."

The roommate blinks. "She's _sixteen?_"

"I look older," Ruth says.

There's a short pause, and then the roommate snatches the lemonade back and says, "Right. Never mind. Watch some sappy movies, eat a tub of ice cream, and forget _absolutely everything _I just told you."

* * *

><p>Sometimes Ruth would go and look at herself in the mirror again. She'd stand there, staring, and look for the defect that had cost her the boy she loved.<p>

When she wasn't tired or alone or whatever, it was easier to be confused about it. Ruth knew she didn't look like she'd stepped off a runway, but seriously, how could a _bloodsucker_ be better? Especially to Lucas, who liked warmth? Who maybe hadn't _loved her _loved her, not yet, but had still...

But when she stood there and studied her reflection for long enough, Ruth understood. In the woods she'd gotten a good look at The Girlfriend for the very first time, a really, _really_ good look, and even though the _wrongness _of it had been obvious to Ruth's senses, she'd still been able to see what Lucas saw. Silk blouse. Long hair. Soft voice. White skin.

Everything Ruth didn't have.

There was no comparison.

* * *

><p>Rachel cleans up Ruth's hair pretty good - it's still short of course, but at least it doesn't look like it was hacked off blindly, which it had been after all. She also gives Ruth a bag of clothes with a disapproving look. Inside, among other things, are three lace bras. Ruth changes before she leaves.<p>

It's really late at night; before heading home for La Push, she finds a bar on the outside of town. It's near the university and it's kinda run-down, but the guys inside are young and clean cut and wearing those jeans that cost like a hundred dollars and come with holes already in them. These people are just pretending to slum it, so that's basically perfect. Skeeves will stare at _anyone_. Boys like this get to be choosy.

Ruth orders one of those lemonades and the bartender doesn't card her. She leans over the rail and drinks and keeps her eyes open for whoever's paying attention, and the roommate was right, she's definitely getting noticed. By the choosy guys. Some of them aren't just noticing, they're _gaping_. Whoa.

She just picks the closest one, 'cause she's feeling lazy.

They stumble into a bathroom stall. The guy sucks at her neck as he touches her, and it's really nice until it makes her think of vampires. She shuffles through all the images she's seen in the Pack-mind, which has always been weird but now she's grateful for it because not only does she know what she's doing, she knows a little about it from the other perspective, so she doesn't have to guess what works.

"Holy shit," the guy mumbles as she gets down on her knees and unzips his fly. "You're fucking beautiful."

It's not the same as _sort of, _but it's not bad.

Ruth rinses her mouth out in the sink afterwards and doesn't think that that was the big deal everyone makes it out to be. The guy - who's seeming a lot younger all of the sudden - has a wide-eyed expression in the mirror as he says, "Can I get your number?"

"Nope," says Ruth. She wipes her lips. They're a little swollen, and she thinks it's kind of attractive.

_What does she have that you don't?_

Poisoned teeth.

Ruth smiles.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Next<em>**_: The Proposal_

_**A/N**: This scene was added because it was Ruth's turn to talk, and we don't know what happened to Jacob between New Moon and Eclipse._


	7. Eclipse: The Proposal

_now who here among us still believes in choice?  
>Arcade Fire, "Ocean of Noise"<em>

* * *

><p>He's at the Cullens' house and Mary has added a huge bed to her room, which is so stunning that Lucas stumbles as she leads him in with a crooked smile. "Um, hi," he says blankly.<p>

"Hi," Mary says, sitting down.

This is... uh... many different levels of unexpected, and part of his mind is screaming _It's a trap! _How it's a trap is kind of beyond him, but an insanely gorgeous girl is sitting on a huge bed invitingly and even now that's still so far outside his mental realm of plausible scenarios in life that his brain can't process it. Guys like him don't get girls like this.

On the other hand, his dick isn't asking any questions. There's a very decent chance he's going to damage his jeans if he doesn't get them off soon.

Wait, _is_ he supposed to take them off? Isn't he _not _supposed to do that? What is she expecting? This bed wasn't here last week which has to mean something but he knows there's lines he's not supposed to cross so where the hell are they?

_It's a trap!_

"It's not a trap," says Mary. Lucas has a terrified second of wondering if, oh shit, now she can hear _his_ thoughts too - which would be _so bad_- but apparently it's just that his face really is that easy to read. "I thought, since we've got the house to ourselves... maybe we could do a little more than usual."

"Sure," Lucas says.

_Wow_.

* * *

><p>Lucas had tried to get in touch with Ruth; that didn't go so well.<p>

First he tried to call, but Billy always answered, and Billy would tell him to fuck off - not _exactly _in those words, but the message was clear enough. So no luck there.

Then he'd tried driving out to the reservation to find her. When he passed the general store Quil Ateara had been in the parking lot, and he'd shot Lucas such an evil look that Lucas literally threw the truck into reverse on the spot. He wanted to talk to Ruth, but that didn't mean he wanted to have an up close and personal conversation with the Pack's pruning shears.

Reaching the point of childish desperation, he'd actually tried of all things to write a message on a piece of notebook paper and have his father deliver it... but when he'd handed the envelope to Charlie, Charlie had just set it aside and said _Man up, son. _Which was probably pretty good advice, except Lucas didn't have the slightest idea what "manning up" would look like in this situation.

He really fucking missed her. Stuff would happen, random shit, and he'd think _Ruth's going to laugh her ass off when she hears this_ but then he'd remember he couldn't tell her about it because she wasn't talking to him. Lucas had never had a best friend before - hell, he'd never had any close friends period - and so he'd never lost one, either. It sucked. There was this big Ruth-shaped hole in his life.

Lucas was with Mary every day, of course, but Mary was different. She couldn't take Ruth's place any more than Ruth had been able to take hers. Apples and oranges. And Mary never, _ever_ swore.

What were his options?

He could give up and leave Ruth alone. That was probably the smart thing to do. He'd been an asshole, after all, pretty much from Day One, and all things considered there wasn't a lot he could do to change that now. And Mary was also clearly a fan of the _Leave Ruth Alone_ idea. She'd never said anything directly, but whenever Ruth's name came up she just got this _look _on her face.

_Are you saying you don't want me to be friends with her anymore?_ he'd asked.

_It's your choice, love,_ Mary had replied. _Whatever makes you happy._

Trap.

The other option was to just hang around the edges of La Push, being prepared of course to flee at the sight of any of the Pack, and hope that he'd run into her sooner or later. Admittedly it was a little stalker-y, so that wasn't so good. Plus... once he saw Ruth, what would he say? He suspected the only thing that could _really _fix things would be to dump Mary, and that wasn't going to happen.

Either way, the dreams Had. To. Stop.

* * *

><p>"It's okay, Lucas," Mary says. She reaches out and he takes her hand. "I love you."<p>

He gets a little warm glow around his heart when she says that, just like always, because he can tell how much she means it and _fuck _it feels good to be loved like that.

'Doing more' turns out to be moderate petting, which _is _a whole lot further than they've gone previously. It hadn't bothered him earlier in the relationship, especially given that Mary had been very clear about her uber-traditional beliefs right from the start, but lately the lack of 'doing more' has been getting to him. The barest of bare definition of first base isn't cutting it now. He's tried not to let it be an issue, because Lucas is not under any circumstances going to be That Guy, so the fact that he's frustrated is this dark secret he's got to keep hidden all the time.

But obviously he hasn't been hiding it as well as he thought. Mary wouldn't be acting like this otherwise. She's still not opening her mouth - fine, makes sense, venom and all - and there's no clothing removal, but she _is_ letting him to outside-the-shirt second base. Lucas knows very well that that's a huge step for her, and that she's doing it to try and please him. So he would be an _epic_-level douchebag if he complained about it. Even if what she's doing is just making things worse.

Mary's a marble statue.

Nothing - not her beauty, not her smell, not her little moans because apparently what he's doing feels good to her so _that's _reassuring - makes up for the fact that Lucas feels like he's groping a mannequin. A mannequin that's been sitting in a freezer.

"Is everything all right?" she asks, kissing along his jaw.

"Yeah," he lies. "Yeah, it's fine."

* * *

><p>He shouldn't be dreaming about women other than his girlfriend. That being said, Lucas wouldn't have felt too bad if the female forms in his dreams were just random, curvy frames with nice asses. He was a guy. That stuff wasn't a big deal.<p>

But dreaming about a real girl?

Dreaming about the same real girl more than once?

The real girl who used to be his best friend?

Yeah. That _was_ a big deal.

He didn't know what the fuck to do about it. His subconscious wasn't something he could just wrestle into submission, and even if it was, Lucas would probably lose. He'd always sucked at wrestling.

It was because he'd been focusing so much on Ruth before. Some part of his mind - or, rather, his dick - had clearly decided the end of the story was set. Lucas knew that sooner or later he would've gotten over himself and said the hell with the age difference, the hell with the Pack, the hell with _everything_ and accepted what Ruth was offering which he suspected was a _lot_. He'd spent the last few weeks of their friendship fantasizing so much that it had become habit to think that way, and it wasn't like a light switch he could just turn off. Even though he was really, _really_ trying.

He didn't imagine her in the garage as much anymore - and thank God for that, because he kind of hated the garage dreams now, they were too realistic and left him miserable. But other fantasies stepped in to fill the void, like fucking her on the old Formica kitchen counter, or pushing her back into the sofa cushions so he'd have room to try going down on her, or even fooling around out on the beach which would probably just be really sandy and uncomfortable but _God_ in his mind she always looked like she was having so much fun...

If he didn't come in his sleep he'd jerk off when he woke up. That took approximately ten seconds and made him feel like the worst person in the world. At least he was the one that did all the laundry, so Charlie didn't know how often his sheets were getting washed.

He'd had to ask Mary not to come through his window to visit anymore; he'd said it was because he thought his dad had overheard them talking, but it clearly hurt her feelings anyway. Maybe even made her a little suspicious. Not good, but it would be _way _worse if she showed up when he'd crashed early and caught him saying Ruth's name in his sleep.

It wouldn't last, though. Lucas had no intention of fucking up his relationship - and doing who the hell knew what to Mary's stability - just because of a few dozen wet dreams. And if he could hang out Ruth like they used to, his dumbass brain would be able to categorize her as his best friend again, instead of as someone who might grin and suggest getting it on in the flatbed of the truck. It wouldn't last.

* * *

><p>Lucas cringes back when Mary slides a thigh between his legs. <em>Shit<em> that's cold. It's not going to be an issue once he's a vampire - he's just gotta remember that this is a _temporary_ problem - but for right now, yeah, no.

"Can we try something else?" he says, sitting up.

"Like what?"

Unfortunately there's not much else they _can_ do. For as long as Lucas is human, Mary will be hard, sharp, and freezing. That's just the way it works. But...

Lucas bites his lip. "Will you stand up?"

"Stand up?" Mary says, looking confused.

"Yeah." He scoots away, and Mary does it, she gets up and moves a few feet from the bed. She's _gorgeous _and with a little distance he's definitely getting into it again. That gives him just enough confidence to say, "Here's the thing. What if we... instead of doing it _together_... maybe, instead, we could... separately..." Please let her catch on. Please let her catch on. How is it possible to for his cheeks to feel this hot? There's got to be limits on the number of blood vessels in his face, right?

"Separately what?" Mary prompts. Shit. He's really going to have to say it out loud.

"Get off," Lucas says in a rush. "I would, um, look at you. Naked. I promise I won't touch or anything. Well, I wouldn't touch _you_, I'd... uh... and you could, you know, to yourself..."

New depths of loserdom officially achieved.

Mary's golden eyes are wide as saucers. "Oh," she says.

"We don't have to," Lucas adds quickly. "It was just a thought."

"But that's... what you want?"

"Well... yes." He swallows. "I'd really like it." He's wondered what Mary looks like for over a year now. She's got to be as perfect under her clothes as she is everywhere else. It's a great way to work around the marble body thing, and Jesus Christ he can't even _imagine_ how hot it would be to watch her watch him, and vice versa. And there's the additional benefit of how maybe after this, if he was lucky which he wasn't but maybe just this once, Mary would be the one starring in his dreams again.

Mary doesn't move for a long moment, and it's a really unnaturally still kind of frozen that reminds him of what she is. Then she moves her hands up to the neck of her silk blouse and unbuttons the first button. And the second. And the third. The edge of white lace comes into view and Lucas reaches for his zipper because damn, it's really-

-then he looks up at her expression.

She hates this.

He pulls his hand back from his lap and sighs. "Hang on, never mind. Don't worry about it."

"But this is what you-"

"Forget what I said. It's no big deal."

Mary rebuttons with an obvious look of relief. Guilty relief, but relief nonetheless, and Jesus he feels like an asshole. "I know it's not a modern notion," she says to him, "but things were different in my era. People... _courted_."

"Courted," Lucas repeats.

"Yes. They took chaperoned strolls, and had iced tea on the porch... they might have kissed once or twice, but not... _this_."

"Right." She wants to be courted and he asked to get her naked and masturbate. Wow. Classy. Is there a bridge nearby he can jump off of?

It seriously looks like her eyes would fill with tears if they could, but Mary can't cry, and that's something Lucas _really_ likes about the vampire condition. He ought to be able to handle crying women after years of living with Renee, but he can't. They absolutely scare the shit out of him. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I just... want to be married to you first. This is one rule I want to leave unbroken."

Lucas glances at where his jacket lies on the floor.

* * *

><p>Alice gave him the ring three days after Volterra. <em>You're going to need this,<em> she'd said with a wink, putting the velvet box in his hand. _Trust me._

In the weeks since then Lucas had looked at the box for a total of probably a hundred hours, but he hardly ever _opened _it. The couple of times he'd had he'd mostly been overwhelmed by how big the ring was, but girls liked flashy jewelry, right? Anyway it had belonged to Mary's mom, and that was what mattered.

He knew he needed to get around to it. After all, he'd already signed up for eternity, so what difference did this one extra little thing make?

Except it _did _make a difference.

Lucas didn't want to get married.

That probably was yet another thing that made him an asshole, but his parents had gotten married, and look how well _that_ turned out. Not to mention that judging from the increasingly melodramatic emails, the piece of paper binding Renee and Phil wasn't making much of a difference either. The whole world acted like standing at an altar and having some holy person say a bunch of words at you was what made your relationship _real_. Fuck that. Lucas didn't need someone else to tell him what was real and what wasn't. A stupid ancient tradition didn't stop you from breaking up. It wasn't like he thought love was bullshit - he loved Mary - but he'd known from the age of seven that marriage wasn't something he was _ever_ going do.

Even so, he carried the ring around in his jacket for weeks. Partly because there would be serious hell to pay if Charlie found it in his room, but also because, well...

The problem was, Lucas really couldn't come up with a compelling argument _against_ the whole thing. Sure, he didn't want to, but that wasn't exactly a reason that made loads of sense. He was already going to become a _vampire_; getting married wasn't exactly a big deal compared to that. Not to mention that Mary had, in fact, heavily implied that being turned wouldn't happen until after a wedding. And he loved Mary. He wanted her to be happy; this would _definitely _make her happy.

Plus Alice had already seen it, so it was basically inevitable.

But he still hadn't asked. He didn't even know how. He'd never thought he would need to.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry," Mary murmurs. "I understand if you're angry with me."<p>

"Of course I'm not angry," he says automatically. He's not. He is _absolutely not_ angry. He'd essentially be angry with her because she won't put out, and that's Not Good on so many levels that he'd have to create a whole new list of ways he sucks, and frankly, he's running out of adjectives.

"I do love you." Mary reaches for his hand, though she's focused on the floor. She hasn't looked him in the eye since he asked her to take off her clothes. "I'm sorry that I'm not... being the girl you wish I would be-"

"That's not true. Don't say that."

It's such a little thing, really, isn't it? Sure, it's just a piece of paper... but it's also just a piece of paper. A piece of paper that might not matter to him but means _everything_ to Mary.

She thought she had to leave him to protect him, and was miserable for months because of it, according to Alice. She tried to kill herself because of he was stupid enough to jump off a cliff. She tried to do sex stuff with him even though she didn't want to. She's going to make him a vampire because he asked.

And Lucas is thanking her for all that by having dreams about his best friend and denying her the only thing she's ever really asked for.

It's just a piece of paper. No big deal.

He reaches for his jacket and pulls out the box.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Next<em>**_: The First Kiss_


	8. Eclipse: The First Kiss

_i take my aim, you feel me come in close / i take my aim so you feel me come in close  
>Tegan and Sara, "Arrow"<em>

* * *

><p>Ruth phases just inside the tree line. If she gets caught walking across the lawn it'll be bad, but it'd be <em>way<em> worse for someone to see a giant wolf sneaking up to Chief Swan's house in the middle of the night. She's been hiding her plans from the Pack-mind - and that's been taking an ton of effort, there's really only so many times a girl can recite the guest stars of Top Gear before someone justifiably smacks her - and she feels the tingles of their curiosity about what she's doing at Lucas' place, but they're mostly thinking it's just protection and girly angst crap so they're not bugging her. But if she gets caught Sam'll flip. Then again he'd flip either way, whether she's caught as a werewolf or as a naked chick, and Ruth doesn't exactly want that to happen either because _wow_ awkward but if she'd brought clothes she might've changed her mind.

Gotta not get caught, then.

Luckily, she's super-light-footed even when she's human, thanks to all the wolf stuff. No more tripping over her dad's boots - she doesn't even _have_ boots anymore. And being human means she doesn't have to hide her thoughts, so she can focus more firmly on what to do next, and tamp down on the little bit of nervousness fluttering in her stomach. She's not going to back down from this. She _will_ make Lucas change his mind about everything, and she's got no problem using whatever tools she has at her disposal. And Ruth knows _exactly _what tools she has. She can be persuasive.

And, man, she's _really_ looking forward to the persuading.

* * *

><p>She'd taken back everything good she'd ever said about Sam ever ever <em>ever<em>. Leah was right, he was a boil on the butt of society. He deserved to rot in hell - did "hell" count as swearing? - for the rest of eternity. _Longer_. Along with every other member of the Pack who had gone on for weeks about all the terrible violent things they'd do to Lucas the next time they saw him, because that meant that she, _Ruth_, was the only one Sam trusted to go to Forks without bringing pruning shears into the equation. It was the _second _time she'd gotten stuck with delivering a wolf message, and even if she didn't have to wear a dress again, it was still _not cool_. Especially given everything that had gone down since then.

Ruth made the best of it and had put on the nicest clothes she had, which these days counted as a real tanktop as opposed to an undershirt and a pair of Rebecca's old jean short shorts. And she took the motorbike because she wanted Lucas to look at the motorbike and be sorry. He _ought _to be sorry. He ought to see what he was missing out on.

It didn't go exactly as well as Ruth had wanted, though, because Lucas had been so obviously happy to see her that he'd reminded _her _of what _she _was missing out on and that was depressing. _I tried to call,_ he'd said as The Girlfriend scowled at his side, _but your dad didn't pass on any messages, I'm guessing._

_Maybe he did and I just didn't want to call you back,_ she'd said loftily. Then she'd flashed a smile at one of the guys passing by, who looked at her legs and walked into the flagpole. That had felt good. And it had felt even better when Lucas frowned, and then even better than _that _when The Girlfriend noticed him frowning.

Rachel's roommate really knew her stuff.

Still, Ruth had been there for a purpose, which was to let The Girlfriend know that the next time a leech wandered where it shouldn't then it would lose a couple of limbs. Technically the Pack was worried more about the red-head than any of the Cullens, but Ruth wasn't all that picky about who got ripped apart. Maybe it would be The Girlfriend who overstepped the bounds the next time, and that would be just _perfect_.

And apparently Lucas hadn't even known all this stuff was going on, and he got mad at The Girlfriend, and he wanted to go to the rez, and Ruth changed her mind about Sam rotting in hell for eternity.

* * *

><p>It's no trouble to climb the tree and crawl through the window, and Ruth is thrilled to note that there's no leech stink in his room. The Girlfriend must not be coming around so often now. That's a good sign.<p>

Lucas is on his back, one arm over his eyes, his breathing deep and even. Asleep. And Ruth can see his bare shoulders above the comforter, which means he's not wearing a shirt. Maybe he's not wearing pants either, that would be helpful.

She feels her lips curl in a smirk. She can definitely do this.

The plan hasn't been very structured after this point, so it's time to improvise. The direct approach seems like it's the best one, and Ruth makes sure to keep her footfalls extra quiet as she approaches the bed, which isn't tough 'cause even without being a supernatural monster the carpet's really thick.

He doesn't stir. Okay. Good. Doing her very best not to disturb the mattress too much, she inches her way onto the bed; she deserves some kind of award for epic sneakiness, because Lucas' breathing doesn't even change.

Once she's on all fours over him, Ruth purses her lips and thinks hard about the next, most sensible step. She goes with very slowly lowering her weight onto him, waiting to see if he wakes up. As her chest makes contact with his through the blanket his head turns to one side, but that's it.

He's _so_ good-looking. She knows he doesn't think so, but werewolves and vampires don't fight over human boys every day of the week. Ruth and The Girlfriend are ancient mortal enemies by blood and birthright so they'd hate each others' guts no matter what, but it'd be stupid to pretend like it's not mostly personal. They're willing to kill because of Lucas and he doesn't even get that he has a real choice.

Well, he'll get it now. Ruth's not leaving until he understands.

She reaches up, moves his forearm out of the way, and presses her lips to his.

* * *

><p>The guys had not been all that welcoming to Lucas. Lucas didn't seem too surprised by that, and Ruth had just been happy no one phased. Gotta take your wins where you can get 'em.<p>

Ruth had _wanted _to stay mad at Lucas. That was kind of tough considering she'd never exactly been mad at him to begin with, but that really seemed like how it was supposed to work. He'd ditched her for someone else and so she was supposed to be mad at him. She was _definitely_ not supposed to be happy to see him again, right, or be happy that he was happy to see her. That was... needy, or something, and Ruth did _not _want to be needy. She knew now that she could get other guys if she wanted them. She still had her pride.

But he looked so _guilty_. Like a kicked puppy who expected to get shut out in the cold.

Gah.

_So, y'know, it's okay if you hang out and stuff, _Ruth had said, doing what she always did when she didn't know what to say, which was tool around with things in the garage. _I mean, I'm not running patrol every __**second**__. There's still afternoons and whatever._

_What are the chances I'll get back to Forks without losing a body part?_

_Eh. I'll handle the guys. They don't really mean it anyway. _Not true, but still.

So he'd stayed for a few hours, and they'd chatted about stupid things, like how the Rabbit was coming along and his visit to Florida, totally playing pretend like there wasn't this big gulf between them now but it felt good anyway because even if it wasn't all real it wasn't fake either. But after awhile Lucas had paused, given her a strange look, and said, _You haven't cursed since I got here._

He noticed. _Nope_, she'd said proudly.

_How come?_

_I'm cutting back. Doing good, yeah?_

_Yeah, you are. _But Lucas had sounded disappointed. And he'd glanced at the door. _I've gotta go, _he'd said, like he didn't really want to.

_Sure_, she'd said, like it wasn't a big deal. _So I'll see you around?_

_Definitely. Well... until the end of the summer, anyway._

_Why? What's at the end of the summer?_

Lucas had just looked at her.

* * *

><p>His skin is cool, but that's only 'cause everything feels kind of cool to her since the wolf temp set in. The wolf temp is another thing she knows she's got working for her, since Lucas likes heat what with being from Arizona and all, and Ruth slides her tongue along the seam of his lips. He opens his mouth with a little sigh and the hand over his head comes down to fumble sleepily at her face. It's <em>way <em>hotter than that guy at the bar. She can feel his hard-on against her thigh.

This was a seriously great idea.

She starts to lose track of time a little bit - it's probably only been a minute or two, but it feels a lot longer - but then he starts to pull his other arm up from under the covers, and he opens his eyes and blinks at her. "Ruth?" he says through the kiss.

She pulls back a little and grins. "Hey."

He blinks again, then- "Holy _shit! _Ruth, what the fuck are you- _shit!_" She falls onto her side as Lucas scrambles from underneath her and jumps out of bed.

Making him blush is still about the best thing in the whole world. Ruth leans back and puts her hands behind her head; she's not upset about her body anymore, she may not be sparkly but she's got heat instead of poison. "Just thought I'd stop by to say I'm sorry about all the stuff from before."

Lucas stares at her, then seems to realize what he's doing and looks up at the ceiling. "Okay, great, apology accepted. _Fuck_." His words are all choked. "Put your clothes on."

"Didn't bring any," she says smugly.

"_What?_"

Ruth had actually planned to do this next part afterwards, but that's okay, now's good too. "Listen, I want to tell you something."

"Tell me later."

"I'm in love with you."

She'd worried that it would be hard to say, but it's not. It's not at all.

Lucas looks down. His brown eyes are wide, but he's looking at her face. Then Ruth stands up and his eyes are back on the ceiling. "C'mon, don't do this," he pleads.

Too late for that. "I'm in love with you, Lucas-" it's even easier the second time "-and I want you to choose me instead of her."

He just shakes his head.

There's no point in not going all in on this. She steps forward and takes his hand. "Listen to me. I can give you all kinds of things that she can't." Ruth has made a special decision to, just this once, refer to the bloodsucker as _she _instead of _it_. "You know I can. And not just this stuff - _I_ can go to Arizona, not just Alaska. I can give you kids if you want them. I can give you a _real _life."

Lucas closes his eyes. A spark of annoyance flashes through her, and she pulls his hand up and places it against her breast. "Feel that?" she demands. "Flesh and blood." She _knows _he feels it, 'cause he's wearing boxers and it's not exactly a secret how turned on he is. "And warmth."

He tries to tug away, but she holds his wrist tighter and doesn't let him.

More, then. With her free hand she brushes her fingers across his stomach, and moves to touch lower. Come on. Come on. Come _on_. "It'll be better with me," she whispers. "Way better than with _her_."

He freezes for a long moment, then he reaches away for the dresser by his side. Ruth backs up as he opens it. Going for condoms, this is _great_, she'd figured on a blowjob since she knew she could do that but this is _so_ much better-

-and Lucas pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt. He shoves them at her and she takes them on instinct. "Get dressed," he says, "and go home. Now."

* * *

><p><em>August? <em>she'd said blankly. _Are you serious?_

Lucas hadn't been able to look at her. _It's not like there's a lot of reason to wait. And we're... we're getting..._

_She's going to turn you into a filthy bloodsucker in **three months**._

_...yeah. And I'm guessing you won't want me around after that._

It'd felt like her bones were coming apart from the inside out like they did that first time she'd phased, she'd been really good about not letting that happen by accident too many times but her control wasn't perfect and there was a red haze and she would rip the garage apart- _You're right! I won't! You can't __**do **__this!_

_You knew it was going to happen._

_But not __**yet**__!_ Ruth hadn't realized until that moment just how much she had _not _accepted any of it, The Girlfriend was bad enough but his changing into one of those _things _had just been this sort of foggy concept that took place in some distant future that could never really arrive. _Not before you've even **lived**! Not before I- _

She'd thrown a wrench at his head. He barely ducked in time. _Jesus! Are you trying to kill me?_

_I **should**! It'd be **better** if I killed you! I'd **rather **you were dead than be one of them!_

The silence had been really, really long.

_I didn't mean it like that,_ she'd said finally. Except she kinda had.

Lucas had just nodded, and he was gone about thirty seconds later, and Ruth knew she had to find a way to make him understand before it was too late. And she would. She didn't need her pride as much as Lucas needed heartbeats. She would fight for him with absolutely _everything_ she had... and she had things the bloodsucker didn't.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd made Lucas Swan smile.

* * *

><p>He's not smiling now, either. "I mean it, Ruth. Put those on and get out of here."<p>

"You can't be serious." He can't be serious.

"Do I look serious?"

He does.

Ruth pulls on the pants and shirt slowly, not because she wants to draw it out but because it's like she's underwater. She's pretty sure she's supposed to be hurting but everything's numb. The worst part is that he's still turned on, which goes to show just how unacceptable the rest of her apparently is.

She glances at his face for exactly one second because that's the full amount of what she can manage; Lucas is staring at the opposite wall and he looks angry and embarrassed and tense but mostly just miserable, which should help but doesn't somehow.

It's better to walk to the treaty line. She doesn't want anyone in her head yet. When she gets back to her territory, she looks down at his clothes and _fuck _that _goddamn motherfucking necrophiliac piece of shit._

She phases still dressed just to watch the scraps fall to the ground.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next<strong>: The Second Kiss_


	9. Eclipse: The Second Kiss

_i've been living in the shadows of your song  
>Arcade Fire, "Suburban War"<em>

* * *

><p>"You're wearing your ring," Lucas says, staring at Mary's left hand.<p>

Her smile is sweet as she holds up her fingers in the early light, which is clear this far above the clouds; the diamonds sparkle nearly as much as she does. "I thought it was time." Her voice is sweet, too, but there's a steel behind it, and she's wrong, it is _not _time.

"Please don't," Lucas finds himself saying. Mary's golden eyes widen with hurt, and that stabs at him like always, but he holds his ground. Just this once. "Soon, but not today. Today's bad."

"Today's _perfect_." Mary winds her arms around his neck. They make him shiver, because it's still really cold out and the snow is soaking into his shoes. "I'm tired of hiding," she murmurs. "I'm not embarrassed. Are you?"

"No, but-"

"Then there's no problem."

There's a _hundred thousand _problems. "Listen, I know you're upset-" she has every right to be upset, God he's such a fuck up "-but I _mean _it."

"So do I. I'm _proud _that I'm going to be Mrs. Lucas Swan. I want the whole world to know how happy you've made me."

It isn't the whole world that he's worried about, and he knows it's not the whole world _Mary's_ worried about, either. It's one person. The person who makes a noise behind him because of _course _she's walked up at that moment, because that's how everything is going right now.

"You're getting married," Ruth says flatly. "_You're_ getting married."

Lucas twists out of Mary's arms, half-expecting her not to let him go but she does, at least there's that. "Ruth, hang on-"

She doesn't.

He wheels on his fiancee, angrier than he can ever remember being in his life. "You knew she was listening."

Mary gives him a level stare. "I think she deserves to know the truth, don't you?" she says, and again _yes _Lucas gets that Mary's upset and that there would have to be consequences for what happened but this is not okay, none of this is okay, and he's going to have to make it better even if he has absolutely _no idea _how.

He chases after Ruth.

* * *

><p>He'd asked Mary not to tell people; she hadn't understood, but when he'd pointed out that everyone in school would immediately start asking when the baby was due, the ring disappeared into her pocket. And Lucas had heaved a sigh of relief.<p>

It wasn't that he was ashamed of being... _engaged_, shit, how did that happen? _He'd_ asked, of course, it was _his _idea... anyway, the problem wasn't shame nearly so much as needing to make sure he had an explanation that didn't involve a broken condom. Lucas thought that was kinda funny, in a way, given that that was about as far from the truth as it was possible to get. As it could _ever_ get, for that matter.

Well, he'd make an awful dad anyway.

Mostly, though, he had needed a plan of some kind to tell Ruth, because it wasn't like she wouldn't hear about it. When Charlie found out - a nightmare in and of itself - he would tell Billy and then it was going to be bad. Fuck, things were _already _bad, except 'bad' no longer seemed like the right word for what was going on. 'Bad' was what you said when your car broke down - which his had, it wouldn't start for some reason, but when he'd poked at the engine it made a scary noise and he'd backed away before his attempt at repairs made it explode. This situation needed a stronger word than 'bad', because he had the sneaking suspicion that Ruth was not going to take the news well. And he'd suspected that _before _she climbed naked into his bed while he was sleeping.

Which, by the way, had been _another _thing that 'bad' didn't cover. 'Fucked up' didn't do it either. He needed a whole new _language _to explain _that _night.

Not that there'd been anyone to use the language _with_, because he and Ruth weren't speaking again, and he sure as hell wasn't going to tell Mary.

* * *

><p>Lucas misses the desert, but he has to admit that the scenery here in Washington is really amazing. He kind of wishes he had the chance to, y'know, <em>look<em> once in awhile instead of only seeing it when something terrible is happening. "Ruth, wait!"

"Fuck you."

"Just hang on for a-"

"No. _Fuck you._" Ruth turns to face him, and her black eyes are bright with a sort of manic gleam that Lucas has never seen before but doesn't like _at all_. "I'm done. I am _so_ done."

He says the only thing he can think of: "Tell me what to do." There _has _to be a solution to all this, something he can do that isn't just going to shove someone off a fucking cliff.

Ruth snorts. "I've got a battle to get to," she says instead of answering. "Have fun up here with the corpse."

_Shit_. "Wait for a little bit." Fuck, she has to wait. He can't let her storm off to fight a bunch of vampires when she's like this, her head's not in the game and the they'll rip her apart- "Just take a few minutes, okay? Walk around or something."

"Nuh-uh. I'd rather go play with some bloodsuckers." Ruth's gaze flicks over Lucas' shoulder, back towards the tent. "Unless you'll let me at yours."

He can't speak, because what is he supposed to say?

Ruth gives him the wolf-smirk that he hates. "Yeah, I didn't think so," she says. "'Bye now. Have a great fucking life."

"_No!_" Lucas shouts quickly. "Jesus, just _don't_ go like this, you'll get yourself killed!"

"_So what?_"

His heart stops.

* * *

><p>The Pack had made it very clear - in about as many ways as possible that didn't involve hieroglyphics or billboards - that they could care less whether Lucas lived or died. The <em>only <em>reason they were helping with his protection was because they weren't interested in letting a vampire army run around eating people and otherwise causing havoc near their territory. _We're going to kill the leeches_, Sam had said at the How To Destroy Newborns training session, _then you're all on your own._ Then he'd glared at Lucas so hard that Lucas had literally taken a step backwards. _And I do mean __**all **__of you._

Ruth had been there too. Ruth hadn't acknowledged his presence. At the time he'd thought that had been for the best, since he was still pissed about the late night visit thing - because, seriously, _what the fuck_- but afterwards he'd really wished he'd tried to talk to her. Even though whatever he'd have come up with to say would have made things worse. It was becoming increasingly clear that was all he could do, just keep making things worse.

At least Mary was happy. She and Alice had been picking out wedding invitations.

For distraction purposes and a general interest in keeping the only human out of the line of supernatural fire, Lucas had agreed to hide up on a cliff side for the duration of the battle. To hide his human scent Embry had carried Lucas up the mountain, slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and _somehow _that Lucas was sure was _completely _by accident, Embry kept dropping him on rocks. By the time they arrived at the campsite Lucas felt like he'd fallen off the motorbike again.

Mary was staying with him and sitting out the battle. _I have to make sure you're safe, love._Which at least had meant she would be safe too.

Ruth had been there too, but she'd refused to phase to human, so Lucas had had to ask Mary what was up. _The wolves want to keep track of us before the battle, and it seems she's the only one who won't attempt to injure you, _Mary had said.

Lucas hadn't been entirely sure of that.

The problem - well, one of them - had been the snowstorm that hit in the middle of the night, which led to Mary bemoaning Alice's lack of weather-related foresight and Lucas to go basically incoherent with hypothermia. During one of his moments of lucidity he reflected that it was sort of anticlimactic to just freeze to death in a tent, and also that it would be really hard for people to explain what the hell he'd been doing out here, considering his idea of camping was staying at a Motel 8.

He'd heard the conversation, but had a hard time understanding it. _Fine, whatever, but get the fuck out._

_I'll do no such thing._

_Then no deal. I'm tired too, bitch, and your stink'll keep me up. Beat it or I'll let him freeze._

_I know that you wouldn't._

_Really? Read my mind._

A few moments later a wonderful heat had curled up against his body, and it only took about thirty seconds for Lucas to fall asleep.

* * *

><p>"Don't joke about that," Lucas says slowly. "That's not funny."<p>

"Who said I was joking?" Ruth's short hair ruffles in the breeze and her breath's coming in short bursts and _shit fuck goddamn it she's fucking serious- _"It'd make your life _way _easier if I got killed down there."

"That is _not fucking true._" He feels like he's going to pass out. "Don't say that shit when you know it's not-"

"It'll be great! You and your corpse bride can sparkle off into the sunset-"

"I won't-"

"-she'll bite you and that's _almost_ like a hickey-"

"Goddamn it, Ruth-"

"-you can stop by my tombstone once a century or something-"

"_Shut the fuck up!_"

His voice echoes through the valley, and even the birds are quiet for a second. Lucas hadn't known he could shout that loud, but then again, he's never really had a reason to. Even Ruth looks surprised.

"C'mon," he begs, quieter and everything hurts. "Don't do this to me. Not you."

But Ruth's smile shows all her teeth. Did the wolf put this coldness in her, or was it the vampires, or was it all him? "Oh, I get it. If I'd tried jumping off a cliff, you wouldn't've gone to Italy. _That's_ how it works. I should've done this _months_ ago, yeah?"

Jesus fucking Christ. "Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. Anything."

"Bullshit."

"I mean it." He does.

There's a long beat while Ruth looks at him, then down at the valley, then back again. "Why should I stick around?" she asks, and it's like she's trying to be haughty but the tone's not right. "What do you want me for? Does the leech need a bridesmaid?"

Lucas doesn't take the bait. "You know how important you are. Don't pull that girl-riddle crap and act like you don't."

"Uh-huh." Ruth steps forward a few paces. "Prove it, then."

"How?"

She looks him right in the eye and says, "Kiss me."

* * *

><p>Lucas had found himself having the most vivid dream yet. He was in his bedroom, and Ruth was back, but she was different - or, rather, the same as she'd been before everything got fucked eight ways from Sunday. This time he didn't tell her to leave. She'd straddled him, and leaned back and pulled off her sweatshirt and grinned and oh <em>shit <em>this was not going to take very long at all. She kissed her way down his chest, he _had literally the hottest girl in the world_ on top of him and-

-no, wait, she wasn't on top of him. She was on her side and so was he, she was spooned against him, and he could smell her hair and her sweat-

-and the mildew of the tent.

Lucas had opened his eyes to find his arm locked around Ruth's waist, holding her body against his. He was grinding against her ass like some kid humping a pillow. Even through like eight layers of clothes he could feel her heat against his dick.

He'd frozen and prayed to whoever might be listening - probably no one - that she hadn't noticed.

Like he had that kind of luck.

Ruth made a plaintive noise and pressed herself backwards and closer. _Keep going,_ she'd whispered, and her voice was all thick with sleep too. _Don't stop._

Lucas was tired. And he was cold. And he missed Ruth. And he really, really didn't want to stop.

So he didn't.

Acting on instinct because that was basically all he'd been capable of he bowed his body around hers, pressing against every inch he possibly could and grinding hard, and he let go of her waist and just flat out reached under her shirt without stopping to even apologize and she _whimpered_, actually fucking whimpered like _wanted _him to do these things and her hand came around to hold onto his shoulder and it didn't matter that they were both still clothed and in a snowstorm and he had bruises all over from being dropped on rocks. Lucas was positive it couldn't be any better if he was actually inside her.

Which he could have been. He'd known he could.

But he didn't even get to make a decision about that because the thought alone did the trick. It just felt too good. After about three more hard thrusts the friction had him moaning against the back of her head, and he came so hard he'd seen spots.

Holy fuck.

After a few hazy moments Ruth had shifted, then reached out to fumble with the duffel bag, and the next thing he realized she'd pressed a wad of toilet paper into his hand. He'd automatically rolled away from her and reached down into his jeans to clean himself up as best he could, but man, what a mess.

Ruth sat up and looked down at him. If she'd used her sunny smile in that moment that probably would have been it.

Instead she'd smirked and said, _You owe me one._

Lucas stared at her, and a moment later his face had started to burn. He turned onto his side quickly, facing the opposite side of the tent and wondered what he was going to do about the smell before morning, because it wasn't like Mary wasn't going to notice.

Ruth stretched out against his back. He didn't push her away because it was still freezing, but when she'd said _Feel better now?_he seriously considered frostbite as a reasonable alternative. He'd never been so fucking embarrassed in his life.

_Fine_, he'd said bitterly. _I'm human. What's your point?_

There hadn't been any movement for a long moment, but then Ruth had wrapped her arms around him from behind like one of her old hugs. _You're human._ _**That's**__ my point._

When he woke up in the morning Ruth was gone from the tent and Mary sat in the corner, just looking at him. Before he'd even had a chance to say anything she'd whispered, _It's okay. I know it was her fault._

He'd basically wanted to die.

* * *

><p>"Kiss you," Lucas repeats.<p>

"Uh-huh. That's not so much, yeah?"

No, it's not. In fact it's _suspiciously _not so much. "But we've already kissed."

Ruth shakes her head and takes another step closer. "Nah, see, that was _me _kissing _you_. Not the same. So you do it this time. _You _kiss _me_."

_It's a trap!_"I don't know how that's supposed to prove anything." Shit, is there a point system or something? It's obviously not just a kiss that she wants, so what's she expecting, is he about to spend the next six months of his life staring at a wall going over this conversation again and again and again wondering what it was he was supposed to have said that would change everything?

Too much time is passing as he tries to think.

"Well, then, forget it," Ruth says. She turns away. "I've gotta be-"

"No, stop." He lunges forward and grabs her arm. "I'll do it." The look of suspicious disbelief that Ruth gives him is awful, so Lucas closes his eyes so he won't have to see it. He leans down and presses his lips to hers.

He doesn't know what she's looking for and he doesn't know a lot of ways to kiss and he's engaged and shouldn't be doing this.

A moment later he pulls back and searches her expression for some sign of approval or, well, _anything_. Ruth exhales slowly, then looks up at him and says, "That sucked. No wonder all the girls you kiss want to kill themselves."

And it is _way too much._

He grabs the back of her head and kisses her again but it's not nice or sweet or anything remotely like he'd tried to go for or has ever done because he's too angry to be nice or give a shit in general and Lucas knows he's a screw up and knows he deserves stuff like this but _fuck_, she'd promised she wouldn't hurt him, and he'd actually believed that promise because _Ruth _was the one who made it but they're still here and it hurts as bad as anything he can imagine.

Lucas expects her to shove him away with all of that wolfstrength and say something even worse, probably with the same smugness she'd thrown at him last night in the tent. He does _not _expect her to gasp and kiss him back just as hard. Harder, maybe.

It makes something shift and crack and then it's not too rough _or _too soft _or _half-asleep. It's not based on how she's hot or how he's hard up or all those other things he'd thought. Her mouth molds to his and it's not any of that, it's just the kiss Lucas has been wanting to give Ruth for months, and it doesn't hurt at all.

She mumbles something obscene against his lips as her fingers tangle in his hair.

He loves the way she curses.

Shit, he loves _her_.

And in that moment, when Ruth pulls away and looks like the girl who used to trip over her boots, Lucas knows that they are all completely, totally screwed.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next<strong>: The Second Breakup_


	10. Eclipse: The Second Breakup

_maybe i would've been something you'd be good at / maybe you would have been something I'd be good at  
>Tegan and Sara, "Call It Off"<em>

* * *

><p>Ruth is high as a fucking kite, which she suspects is gonna make this a whole lot easier. Well, easier in the sense of it being a bit more like a kick to the broken ribs, rather than like being dragged over broken glass, which is how she's been feeling lately.<p>

There's a knock at the door, because of course he'd knock on a girl's bedroom door 'cause he'd think that's the right thing to do except it actually means she has to answer when she can't take a deep breath. She draws in the air anyway and it stabs. "Come on in," she calls.

Lucas does. The hesitant expression drops right off his face as his eyes widen. "Jesus, Ruth, you look like shit." She laughs a little, and winces when she does, which makes him turn all white. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that-"

"Yeah, you did," she says. "S'okay. I don't feel too bad. The bloodsucker pumped me full of something-or-other."

"I can come back later if you want-"

"Nah." She gives him a smile. "Let's just get all the rebreaking over with while I'm still numb, okay?"

His face goes even whiter, and Ruth really wishes that made her feel good.

* * *

><p>It had turned out that Ruth Black sucked at hating Lucas Swan.<p>

She'd tried. She'd tried _hard_. Whenever she thought about calling she remembered him jumping out of bed, and whenever she thought about going by she remembered him shoving sweatpants into her hands. Thinking like that made her throat close with humiliation and then she'd get generally furious with him for daring to exist in the first place. It wasn't fair, he shouldn't be _real_, he should've just stayed in Arizona and never turned up at First Beach and he definitely should never, _ever_ have been born with eyes like that. She tried to focus on thinking mean thoughts, like Leah did about Sam, because maybe that'd be better.

Except it had just made her more miserable.

She _missed _him. She wasn't supposed to _miss _him. She was supposed to be righteously angry until he apologized for... for... _something_, Ruth didn't know what exactly, but she was positive there ought to be some groveling coming her way. She shouldn't be thinking about how her garage - which used to be _her_ place - felt all empty without him. The lawn chair wasn't a lawn chair anymore, it was _his _lawn chair, and somehow she couldn't just fold it up and put it away, no matter how many mean things she thought.

So she tried even harder. She'd completely ignored him at that training session with the weird soldier leech and refused to make eye-contact because _hmph_. Except he ignored her too and... well, shit.

He didn't ignore the bloodsucker. He bent over backwards for _it_. Of course, it had been made epically clear by that point that Ruth did not rank anywhere near that bitch in Lucas' eyes and that just fuckin' _sucked_ to think about. He'd tossed her out of his bedroom for a _corpse_. He was gonna become a _vampire _and it made her want to break things and sob at the same time.

What the fuck was she supposed to do to change his mind? She didn't _have_ anything else.

She'd decided she would just have to keep working at the whole not-giving-a-shit thing.

* * *

><p>Lucas sits down next to the bed and doesn't look her in the eye, but Ruth's pretty sure that's not because he's avoiding her. He just can't seem to stop staring at her bandages. "Well," he offers after a minute, "I heard you did really great in the battle, aside from the whole getting crushed thing."<p>

"I did," she says proudly. "Kicked ass, took names, all that good stuff."

"Wish I could've seen it."

She'd shrug, but shit that would hurt like hell, painkillers or not. "Sounds like you were pretty busy not getting eaten."

"Yeah, that's true." And there's the smile that made her start falling in love with him in the first place. Even if she'd known what was coming she's pretty sure it would've happened anyway. "I get rescued a lot. It's kind of hard on the ego."

"You're human." Ruth smirks. "And you have weak little Tyrannosaur arms."

He rolls his eyes. "Thanks."

"No problem." These drugs are really awesome. She feels like she's floating a foot or two above her body and maybe is about that removed from this conversation, too. "I'm glad you got rescued, by the way. I wasn't sure you would be. Was your bloodsucker pissed?"

"No," he says. "She actually wasn't mad at all."

Of course not. The perfect little princess leech would never be that aggressive. Ruth throws wrenches but The Girlfriend is just _so _understanding.

No, wait, not The Girlfriend. The Fiancee.

"I guess that means you're still engaged," says Ruth.

Lucas bites at his lower lip and his shoulders slump. "Yep," he says.

Yeah, like _that _tone doesn't mean anything. The drugs give Ruth the freedom to say, "I wouldn't do that, you know. I wouldn't make you marry me. I wouldn't care."

"She's not making me."

"Uh-huh."

"She's _not_."

"Whose idea was it?"

"I asked _her_."

"So now you _want _to get married?"

"It doesn't matter one way or another."

"Real romantic."

"Look, it's _done_, okay?" he snaps, glaring at her. "I asked and it's done. I'm not going back on what I said. I'm a fuck up but I'm not going to do _that_."

Ruth closes her eyes. A moment later she hears, "Shit. I'm sorry, that was-"

"Nah, forget it." God, that bitch's hooks are in _so_ fuckin' deep. Maybe it was a waste of time to ever try and get them out. Maybe the two of them were screwed right from the very beginning.

"We don't have to talk about it," Lucas says.

Ruth thinks she could get used to this fuzzy feeling. "You got a better topic of conversation?"

Silence.

* * *

><p>In the tent she'd woken up to the feel of his cock pushing into her lower back. She wasn't all that conscious herself, but she might've shifted up so he was grinding against her ass instead. That had made him grunt in her ear and hold her tighter.<p>

Ruth hadn't known it was possible to get that wet that fast.

After what happened in his bedroom it seemed like a bad idea to encourage him because she'd rather not go through _that_ nightmare again, thanks... but she sure as hell wasn't gonna _stop _him. She'd closed her eyes and relaxed and thought about how this would be a lot more comfortable if there were a few more sleeping bags, and maybe it wasn't quite as cold, and if his hand were down her shorts the way she'd thought about a million times. She'd been starting to wonder if it would count as rude to get herself off when he'd frozen up and realized what he was doing.

But she'd asked him not to stop and he didn't. He came from just _pretending _to fuck her and see - _see!_ - she'd been right all along, she could give him all kinds of stuff that dead thing couldn't and he'd been _stupid _to turn her down in the first place and _now _he would get it and be sorry.

Then she'd been mean to him like she'd been wanting. And it felt terrible instead of good. And she'd cried after he went back to sleep because apparently loving him had opened up this soft squishy thing inside her that made it impossible not to cry when she felt upset or glow when she felt happy or tamp down in general. She missed the days when stuff just rolled off her back. Now everything glomped on, good or bad.

She'd been trying to come up with a way to apologize that wouldn't just fuck things up more when the bloodsucker had oh-so-casually announced that, by the way, it and Lucas were engaged. Lucas, who _hated_ the idea of marriage, was _engaged_ to a _vampire_.

The hell with apologizing.

* * *

><p>"So when's it supposed to happen?" Ruth asks.<p>

"Which part?"

"Either."

He sighs. "The wedding's in August. I don't remember which weekend, I'll have to ask."

He doesn't even hear himself. "And dying?"

"After. Don't worry, we'll be in Alaska. It won't violate the treaty."

"Like I give a shit about that." She's getting tired. The whole werewolf healing thing is cool, given that it means she'll only be down for the count for a couple days instead of, y'know, forever, but it's taking every drop of her energy. "I'm guessing that if I ask you not to you're just gonna laugh me off again."

Lucas gives her a look. "I never laughed you off," he says seriously.

Okay, that's fair. "But you're not gonna change your mind, is what I mean. Right?"

He doesn't answer. Instead he does something she really didn't think he had in him - he reaches over and brushes her hair out of her face. Ruth suspects The Girlfriend would hate that way more than what happened in the tent. "I can't change my mind," he says, and damn he sounds so sad, this is one of the sad days, she wishes she wasn't all banged up so she could hug the sad things out of him. "I don't have a _choice._If I did I'd-"

"Uh-huh." Ruth really doesn't want him to finish than sentence. She just stares at the ceiling and thinks morphine-y thoughts. "We're exactly right for each other, though. It would've been really easy. I mean, you picked up on that, yeah?"

"Yeah," he says.

To Ruth's surprise that makes it a little better, instead of a lot worse. "I love you." It's still easy to say. "But I kinda think... maybe we should have a long distance friendship for awhile." That part's _not _easy to say.

"Alaska _is _long distance."

They're not gonna be friends after that, though. Not ever again, 'cause he'll be dead and Ruth's pretty sure if she sees her best friend all sparkly then she'll just break inside and never ever get better. "Well, long distance even before then. But maybe we'll see each other before the whole wedding thing. Once, at least." She really wants to see him one more time, when she's not stoned and maybe can say goodbye for real.

"Once," he echoes hollowly.

This all feels like the stuff she's supposed to be doing that'll make things better in the long run. Band-aid ripping and shit like that.

Except it just doesn't feel right at _all_.

* * *

><p>It took until Ruth tightened the suicide screws in Lucas before she'd realized how much she <em>didn't <em>want to be treated like The Girlfriend. But she'd been out of ideas and had all this poison inside her and was thinking that she shouldn't be the one carrying it since it was _his _poison and it oughta _stay _with him, but didn't feel right or good or anything Ruth had hoped it would, and how the fuck did the bloodsucker get off on putting that look on his face? It was all messed up and Ruth only ever wanted to take those things _away _, not pile them on. Hurting him only hurt her back and maybe that was what being in love did to you.

She didn't want what The Girlfriend had with Lucas because, as it turned out, what The Girlfriend had with Lucas _sucked_.

But Ruth was absolutely one-hundred-percent fuckin' _positive _that Lucas didn't kiss The Girlfriend like _that_. Not the crappy weak one, or the pissed off hot one, but the one after that, the one where he'd kissed her like he seriously never wanted to stop. Like he loved her back.

And when he'd finally let her go he'd looked at her that way, too. Like he loved her back.

_I gotta go,_she'd said.

_Uh-huh, _he'd said. All wide-eyed and stunned. Like he loved her back.

The run was nothing, the newborns were nothing, she paid attention with her instincts but her human mind was up on a mountain top-

-and that had probably been how she ended up getting half her body crushed. Which, in addition to _hurting like a bitch _had the nasty side effect of bringing her back down to earth, where he loved her back but that didn't mean anything had changed.

* * *

><p>She wants to stay awake so he'll stick around, but it's not gonna happen. Either the staying awake part or the sticking around part.<p>

"I've got to go," Lucas says, leaning back away from her, "and you look like you're gonna pass out any second."

Ruth nods.

It's really obvious when he swallows. "But I can come back, right? Before?"

"Mm-hmm." She closes her eyes and turns her head away which is the best she can do 'cause she can't roll onto her side. "S'all right if I skip out on the wedding, yeah? Don't have a dress that fits."

There's sort of a smothered laugh, but it's not really all that funny.

She listens to him get up and how the chair scrapes across the floor and she wants to say something, explain that if he changes his mind then she'll be here right until the second his heart stops beating since fuck, where else would she be? But she doesn't because it's a mean guilt trip, and she's already been mean enough lately considering she knows that even though he's getting it all wrong it's because he's _trying _to get it right.

She can't win, and she can't hate him, so the next step is trying to let it go. Ruth's really not sure she'll be any better at that than she's been at the other stuff, but it's worth a shot.

"It probably doesn't matter," says Lucas, "but I love you too."

"Yeah," she says, "but I love you more."

He leaves, and for the next five minutes or so before she falls asleep Ruth reflects on the fact that yeah, fuck, letting go's gonna fail just as hard as everything else.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next<strong>: Optional Scene (The Garage Again)_


	11. Optional Scene: The Garage Again

_i'll dig a tunnel from my window to yours  
>Arcade Fire, "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)"<em>

* * *

><p>The box rattles on the seat, and Lucas slows down so it won't fall if the truck hits a pothole or something. That would be a pain in the ass to deal with. Not to mention that it would cost him time, which it feels like he doesn't have much of.<p>

Then again, he might be wrong in thinking he has time at _all_, given that Ruth had been pretty clear the last time he saw her. The long distance friendship stuff and everything. But she _had _promised he could see her one more time, and even if she hates him - which he kind of suspects she might now that she's not full of morphine - he's holding her to that promise. Everything's one huge epic clusterfuck but he _is _seeing her at least once. She might not exactly _owe _him that, but he's taking it anyway.

Which is basically how their relationship has worked, so... yeah.

* * *

><p>The months had passed in weird fits and starts, like summer had decided to say <em>Fuck it<em> to the laws of time and space and just kept moodily resetting its pace. There were days that lasted forty or fifty hours, and then there were whole weeks that disappeared overnight. It was the only explanation for how he woke up one morning and it was the end of July and he was supposed to be making decisions about cake icing.

_Buttercream or fondant? _Alice had asked, bouncing excitedly around the bakery.

_You won't be able to eat it,_ Lucas said. The amount of enthusiasm Alice was displaying had started to seriously unnerve him and besides, he wasn't entirely sure what fondant was. _What difference does it make?_

Alice had ignored him and begun to squeal over sugar violets; Mary just squeezed his hand. _Let her have her fun,_ she'd whispered. _It's easier than fighting, believe me._

That had always been clear.

On the plus side, it had _also _become clear that Lucas' thoughts wasn't really needed on any of the wedding stuff. Sometimes Mary showed him a couple of fabrics in different colors, at which point he'd have to fake an opinion - he'd heard once that it was literally impossible for men to have opinions about fabric, and at least in his case it had turned out to be true. Lucas had actually started to wonder if he'd been colorblind for years and hadn't known, because, shit, if there was a difference between 'sunrise' and 'sherbet' he didn't have the slightest idea what it was. Other than that, though, he wasn't expected to do all that much.

At least it hadn't seemed to bother Mary at all. She'd just laughed off his lack of enthusiasm - _Men never bother with this sort of thing, love _- and the plans proceeded largely without his input.

Lucas had the feeling he was supposed to care more about this stuff, but he just _didn't_. Getting married was something for Mary, not for him, but when he'd mentioned that to his father one afternoon, Charlie had given him a serious look. _Believe me, son, that's not how it should work._

Of course, Charlie didn't have the whole story, or the advice would've been different.

Probably.

* * *

><p>Lucas is incredibly relieved to see that none of the Pack is hanging out in Ruth's yard, because he is ninety-nine percent certain that if he gets caught here he will get his ass beat. The only reason he's not <em>one hundred<em> percent certain is because they might've decided getting married to a vampire is punishment enough. But given that there's no reason he can't be beaten bloody _and _marry a vampire... really, it's just a good thing that none of the wolves are around.

He's not positive Ruth's here either, for that matter. Lucas doesn't dare knock on the front door of the house; Billy might answer, and he's not sure what Billy would do to him, but it wouldn't be pretty. At least Lucas would be able to outrun him, unlike with Embry or Quil or...

...he just isn't popular in La Push at the moment, period.

Kinda hard to argue with that, though. He's the guy who broke Ruth Black's heart.

If he has any luck - which it has been well established that he does _not _but oh well - Ruth will be in the garage, so that's where Lucas goes, shoebox in hand. He nudges the door open and she's there, working on the Rabbit in her cut off shorts and tanktop, and even though he misses her sweatshirts he's never going to object to that, which he really should _not _be thinking about but their friendship is already ruined so it's not like looking can make things worse.

"Hey," Ruth says without glancing up from the engine. "Your alignment's fucked up."

For a moment Lucas wonders if that's a metaphor or something, but then he realizes that that must be why the truck's tires have been shaking. "How did you know that?"

"Could hear it from the road."

"I couldn't and I was _in _the thing."

"You don't have wolf senses and even if you did you wouldn't know what it was. You're shit with mechanical stuff."

True. "Can I come in?"

Ruth shrugs. "Free country."

Lucas is fully aware that short answers - combined with a total lack of eye contact - are not a good sign. The relative friendliness of their last talk _had_ been a result of Ruth being high, apparently. Still, though, she's letting him in, so that's something. "Brought you this," he says hesitantly, holding up the shoebox of bad thingies. "I figured you might, y'know, want to smash them."

He's pretty sure by now that he never should have stopped her from smashing them in the first place.

* * *

><p>It had been exactly like Lucas expected; the first responses had all been, <em>So, when's she due? <em>But after all the explaining how no, Mary wasn't pregnant, everyone in Forks had pretty much just shrugged and given congratulations. Apparently in a town that small getting married right out of high school wasn't exactly uncommon.

Charlie did not give congratulations. That was not remotely surprising.

What had alarmed him - and knocked him off the rails he'd been on since the day he left for Volterra - was Renee's reaction. _Oh my God, baby. Tell me all about her!_

Lucas had managed not to bang his head against the wall. _It's Mary, Mom. I've been telling you about her for ages._Well, whenever he took Renee's calls, which wasn't that often, considering that she always wanted to talk about him coming 'home' to Jacksonville and moving away from her was pretty much the only time he'd ever not caved to his mother in his entire life.

It had also been the last time he could remember feeling good about any of his decisions.

After a great deal of excited gushing wherein he was not asked or expected to add anything, the voice on the other end of the line had plaintively said, _Why haven't I gotten an invitation? Aren't I invited?_

_Of course you're invited, Mom. They haven't been sent out yet._

_I know you don't want to live with me or come visit, but if you don't want me there... well, that's fine._

_That's **not **what I said._

_You don't have to lie to spare my feelings. It would be hard for me to get away anyhow._

At that point he _had_ banged his head against the wall. _Mom... look, do you **want **to come?_

An epic sigh. _It's your choice, baby. Whatever makes you happy._

He'd had conversations like this six hundred thousand times, but it wasn't until half an hour after Lucas hung up that he realized they hadn't only been with Renee.

* * *

><p>"Just set 'em over there," Ruth says, gesturing vaguely.<p>

Lucas tosses the shoebox onto the work bench. The little broken engine pieces rattle as he does, and obviously whatever he's trying to do here isn't working, which isn't all that surprising because he's doesn't even _know _what he's trying to do. Just... something. Since this could well be the last time he's ever going to see her.

There's probably a right thing to say.

It'd be fucking nice if he knew what it was.

"Pass me the socket wrench, will you?"

Socket wrench. "Right. Sure." Lucas kneels down by the Rabbit and looks into the red plastic tool box that has been open every single time he's been in this garage. He searches... and searches... and shit, it's hopeless, they all look the fucking same, they _always _look the fucking same, how does everyone else _do _this? "Which one's the socket wrench again?" he says desperately.

"The one on top."

"Which one on top?"

"The one with the socket on the end. Duh."

"Which looks like what?"

"Are you kidding? You don't know what a socket looks like?"

"Um... can you describe it?"

"It's a socket! It looks like a socket!"

"That _really _doesn't help."

"_Ugh!_" Ruth wipes her hands off on her shirt and finally comes out from under the hood. "You... you're just... _ugh!_"

"Yeah," says Lucas, "I know."

She flops down next to him and knocks his hands out of the way, digging through the box with way more clanging than is he suspects is necessary. "_This_," she growls, pulling out one of the wrenches, though it could have been a screwdriver and Lucas is positive he wouldn't know the difference, and waves it an inch from his nose. "_This_ is a socket wrench!"

At least she's looking at him now. Well, glaring. "Okay."

"You could at least _try _to remember!"

"I _am _trying."

"It's not hard!"

"It is for me."

"That is _such shit! _You're not an idiot! You're not dumb or defective, you're not some kind of useless screw-up, there's _nothing wrong_ with you, you're _wonderful _and there's _no reason_ you can't figure it out and I _know _you'd remember if you'd just get over this stupid fucking idea that you're some kind of-"

"I'm not getting married," Lucas blurts out.

Ruth drops the wrench.

* * *

><p>It ended with a whimper, not a bang.<p>

_I don't want to get married. _When Mary's eyes had widened Lucas had had to bite his tongue to keep from taking it back, but he'd moved to Forks and he'd do this, too. Somehow.

_But... you asked me..._

Jesus, he sucked. _I know I did._

_Is it all the planning? I'm sorry, I can rein Alice in-_

_That's not it._

_So what changed?_

_Nothing changed._ Shit. _I've __**never **__wanted to get married._

Mary had stared at him, her perfect face perfectly uncomprehending. _I don't understand._

_I'm sorry, _had been all he could think of to say.

She'd started to tremble. _So.. it's over? You're ending things between us?_

_That's not what I'm saying._ Which was true. _But I don't want this._ Which was also true. And shit, that had been so fucking hard to tell her, because 'I don't want' were not words he'd said many times in their relationship.

_But, love, if we're going to be together forever, what does it matter?_

_Exactly. If we're going to be together forever, what does it matter?_

It wasn't logical. He'd known that. But every decision he'd made in the last year and a half had seemed logical at the time, and it had brought him to the most fucking illogical place he could imagine, where he was very close to getting married and turning immortal because it seemed douche-y not to. And maybe he could manage the second part, maybe he was willing to give up his family and his life - literally - to be with Mary, but getting married was the one thing he'd sworn he'd never do and it was the only line in the sand he was going to draw with her, the _only _one...

...and she wasn't going to let him have it.

Even _he_ understood what that meant.

_You know how important this is to me,_ she'd whispered. _I know that people are... __**different**__... nowadays, but... there are certain-_

_I know._ Just this. Just this one thing.

Mary had frowned suddenly. _Is it about Ruth?_

_No. _Lucas actually hadn't been thinking about Ruth that much recently; if he even tried, he found himself suddenly focused on what to have for dinner, or if there was enough gas in the truck, or whether there was anything good on TV. He wasn't even dreaming about her. His brain had developed seriously impressive self-defense mechanisms to keep the pain of losing his best friend at bay.

_Because if that's the problem, maybe we should invite her to the wedding. For closure. It could be good for everyone._

Lucas literally could not think of a worse idea. _Mary, it's not about Ruth. It's that you want to get married... and I don't._

_You don't love me?_

He _had_ had this conversation before, it felt more and more familiar with every passing second, all the words were automatic and holy shit, had he just been conditioned his whole life to find this kind of relationship? _Of course I love you._ Therapy. No matter what happened, Jesus Christ he needed some fucking therapy.

_But not enough to marry me. Enough to be with me for **eternity**, but not enough to say a few simple vows. Lucas, that doesn't make **sense**._

He'd stared at his feet because he couldn't figure out how to say it to her face. _I'll give you my whole life,_ he'd said. _But I want this one thing._

And that was the impasse.

* * *

><p>Ruth doesn't speak for a good thirty seconds, during which Lucas pretty much does not move. "What about the other thing?" she asks finally. "The bloodsucker part?"<p>

Lucas shakes his head. The conversation had ended with Mary calming down and concluding that he just needed time to think - _he _needed time - and he'd known she was right, that if he stayed he would change his mind. But Alice had hugged him with a sad, knowing certainty before he left the house and whispered that it would have been great to have him as a brother and not to worry, she'd make sure Mary was all right.

That was two weeks ago, and he hasn't heard from any of them since. He's pretty sure they've left without saying goodbye, and he needs to get around to canceling everything as soon as he feels less depressed, because he _is _depressed again. For all he and Mary loved each other they couldn't get past a piece of paper and that hurts like hell. It took awhile to get off the couch.

And it took awhile beyond that to get the nerve to face Ruth.

"Listen," Lucas says, "I'm not here to... and I know that you're probably not... you just promised I could see you one more time, so... yeah." Shit, two months ago he never tripped over his words with her. If they can't find a way to get back to that, where they could just talk without everything being painful, then maybe it would be better for their friendship to stay long distance. Not that he's got a lot of hope of their friendship becoming short distance again.

Ruth is sorting the tool box. It doesn't look disorganized to Lucas, but that doesn't mean anything. Her cheeks are covered with a deep red blush.

Lucas prepares himself to be told to fuck off.

"Have you ever waxed a car?" says Ruth suddenly.

He blinks. "What?"

She's on her feet with a speed that's probably wolf-based, searching through a cabinet. "You don't have to mess with an engine to wax," she explains, "so there's only so much you can fuck up." She pulls out a can and a clean rag and sets them down on the roof of the Rabbit. Lucas stands up to look at them as she babbles, "You'd probably be pretty good at it or at least not terrible and it'd be something for you to work on instead of just sitting around and getting bored and not knowing what to do and-" Then she throws herself into his arms, hugging him so tight he can barely breathe, but hell breathing's not all that important anyway.

"You scared the shit out of me," she mumbles against his shoulder. "You know that?"

"Yeah, I know," he says, hugging her back as tight as _he_ can. At least he's not in danger of crushing her ribs. "I'm sorry."

She nods. Hopefully it's some sort of acceptance of his apology. There's also some kind of incoherent words that he can't hear, but it sort of sounds like an apology from her, too, which is nice because even though he's not going to mention it she scared the shit out of him, too. Lucas feels her lips brush over his neck, that feels good, and maybe they'll get around to that later once he's done with being sad about Mary - which he'd pretty sure he will be - and once she's done being hurt about him scaring her - which he's pretty sure she will be. In the grand scheme of things, though, he'll happily settle for just this.

She tries to let go of him first, but he holds on for a few seconds longer because as fucked up as his life still is he's got his best friend back. "Okay," she says, turning away and acting like she's not wiping her face on her wrist. "So. Waxing. You can do that, yeah?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. Better get started then, 'cause I was gonna take it out for a ride later." Lucas nods, and Ruth nods, and he smiles when she reaches over and turns on the radio.

_the end._

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN**: This scene is written because I believe it is the most likely outcome for the genderswap. The fact of the matter is that careful reading - hell, even not careful reading - of the Twilight Saga makes it clear that while Bella loves Edward, she feels an equal draw towards vampirism itself. Bella lives in terror of becoming old, and of particular being older than the man in the relationship; being changed means she will be young forever and become unspeakably beautiful into the bargain. Bella - and Stephenie Meyer - internalized the societal emphasis that youth and beauty are the most valuable traits a woman can possess. On the flip side, it is my interpretation of those same societal messages that while it is certainly advantageous for a man to be good-looking, there simply isn't the same level of pressure. Men don't have to be young to be desirable; their appeal doesn't end at age 30 in the eyes of the world. (For an example, Demi Moore and George Clooney are only six months apart in age. Look at what Demi Moore has had to do in order to still be considered attractive, as opposed to Clooney.) Even given this, the marriage issue was an enormous sticking point for Bella, and came close at times to being something she could not overcome. Lucas did not view vampirism as a desirable goal in and of itself, aside from a means to an end. Given his lack of additional motivation (being that he did not consider vampirism as a way to achieve his concept of a gender ideal), it was my opinion that the marriage issue could be one that he would not be able to get past._

_That being said, this scene is optional because it is most certainly not the *only* outcome for the story. (I would even say that this scene is only the most likely by plurality.) Unlike Bella, Lucas internalized other societal gender issues, namely the male burden to protect the female - an issue that being the son of Renee would certainly exacerbate. And do not ever underestimate the damage that can result from an abusively co-dependent relationship. On the plus side, none of the possible outcomes involve a Renesmee._

_Thanks for reading, and in particular I would like to thank those who participated in the comment threads on LJ. I will never stop being amazed at the intelligence and thoughtfulness of this fandom, nor of your willingness to challenge assumptions and think about the issues of a fic in depth and with respect. I learned a great deal about myself thanks to these discussions, and my gratitude, it is immense ;)_

_Till next time, guys._

_(Oh, side note: I strongly suspect that this is an AU that will lead to me scratching out occasional drabbles. If they pop up, I'll be sure to list them here and/or in my Master Fic List on LJ.)_


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